#But they work it through hate sex when it gets too bad
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I'm in gen Z and I've got friends who think like this
I wasn't too sheltered as a kid or a teen so like I don't agree with some but I can see the reasoning. Though the asking to masturbate one is wild, like wtf dude that's just like... A weird thing to ask. Also thought it was like a canon event for some ppl to masturbate to like the idea of ppl they found attractive. I've never done that cuz yeah it feels really fucking weird like dawg I know that person, but ASKING is so fucking wild man 😭
And actors younger than 18 what's that about? If it ain't got sexual content I don't see the problem as long as like workplace abuse isn't happening because it's pretty common to my knowledge in the industry.
Like how am I on the other side of my own generations BS 😂😭 I think I should be grateful??
Don't think not smoking and drinking is a bad thing though lmao. But I know a lot of my friends and I were shamed for sex related stuff by our parents. I mean when I was i think 16 or 17 my mother went through *private* ifykyk messages and continued to shame me for things that were said for a month or so after, even getting my MUCH younger sisters involved by telling them "Leaf is doing nasty things' or "Leaf is doing things she knows she shouldn't" and then she'd directly quote things I said to my partner as a way to embarrass me. Kinda weird looking back on it but my mom's kinda fucked up lol
But I had a lot of friends with similar experiences. It doesn't really create a safe place for what are pretty normal feelings :/
But then on the complete opposite side we have shows like Big Mouth and sites like AO3 where it's a very normal thing to be horny and have kinks and it's not shamed, sometimes even encouraged. We grew up wack y'all lol
So lines had to be drawn SOMEWHERE and for a lot of ppl my age it gets to be a little much
Like I have a friend who hates like any sort of sexual reference to underage characters. Which is totally fair they're underage it's whatever. But it's to the point he gets like defensive about it. And he's the dude who's pretty steadfast in his beliefs, but it got to the point even i thought it was a little weird. Like sometimes he'd get mad about making out or slightly heavier relationships between minors, eich again I can see the thought process, but also ppl are having sex by 16 or 17, and it makes sense that characters those ages would be doing similar things. I grew up reading books where teenagers did teenager things, and I feel like there is a level of age appropriate stuff? Like no dawg don't make full ass bdsm shit for teens but I feel like referenced or even vanilla type shit is fine????
I don't have a license so I can't talk-
Working on it though ;v;
And yeah lmao masturbate it's good for you (no literally there are studies saying it's good to do lmfao, like drinking a single glass of red wine before bed once a night is good for you... Unless your a recovering alcoholic then maybe not)
Sorry went on like a whole tangent lol but I'm bored and wanted to throw my two cents as someone who's got friends who think like op mentioned but I... Don't lol.
weird anti ideology finally leaking out into the mainstream
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Anderson - Abby (Tlou 2)
NSFW tags - enemies to lovers lowkey, hate sex, masturbation, powerbottom!abby, face-fucking (r!receiving), orgasm denial sorta (a!receiving), 18+
authors note: need to dominate a buff woman so bad oh my goddddddd. hoping to release something for ellie too if i get any requests or ideas 😈😈
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you bolted straight up as you awoke, instinctively reaching for the pistol that sat on the nightstand next to you
you pulled your hand away, noticing the way the cold of the morning seemed to envelope you, making every inch of your skin quiver
sweat gathered on your brow in spite of this, gathering on your palms as you rested your head in your hands
you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you reached over to grab your worn journal
the cover was sturdy, with only a few scruffs and scratches, probably from you throwing it against your wall so often
the inside however, was absolutely filthy, filled with lewd drawings and stories of the woman you adamantly hated, abby anderson.
she was a wlf soldier, who you worked far tot close to. you had been on the same unit for years, which ment years of you enduring abbys hate-flirting
you knew she did it on purpose, because she saw first-hand how it riled you up. you would think the physical fights would be enough to split you two up.
you couldn't help it, the frustration made your face, and cunt, become unbearably warm. and she was just so easy to catch off guard when she got flirty.
so you had moved to journaling about abby, aggressively.
'had another sex dream about anderson again??? i swear to god she can't won't leave me alone, even in my dreams. i can't stand her.'
you slammed the cover shut, burrowing back under your blankets and trying to clear the image of abby's bare thighs from your mind
of course it was all you could think of. you couldn't catch a break.
it was andersons fault, you didn't mean to walk in on her changing. maybe if she fucking answered when you knocked it wouldn't have happened.
instead you're here, burying your hand between your legs and thinking about her toned thighs, the way they met with her plump ass
and her back, oh my god, her back.
you wanted to watch her back muscles ripple and flex while you fucked her from behind,
tugging on that stupid braid and drawing out the most needy moans
slick pooled under you as you fantasized about abby,
thinking about all the ways you would show her how much you hated her
"fuck you, anderson" your voice was low as your fingers sped up, the feeling on your clit drawing out quiet groans
and just as it was starting to get good, you felt your blanket come flying off you
an all too familiar voice echoing through your quiet room "well fuck you too-"
you met eyes with Abby just in time to see them shoot open, her jaw dropping while she took in the sight in front of her
"oh my god." you were surprised by the lack of disgust in her voice, which you expected
still, you felt your stomach sink as you realized abby had just caught you thinking about her,
with your hands down your pants.
her muscular frame took up so much space in your room, space that you had never imagined she'd be here to fill
"they told me to come wake you up..i- you didn't answer when i knocked" her voice trailed off as her eyes traveled down your body,
clad in pajama pants and a sports bra, not nearly enough clothes to be having this conversation with her
you swear you were in shock, and you opened your mouth to explain yourself, but no words came to your defense
"so...you're not going to tell me why my name is in your mouth right now?" her voice was challenging you, questioning if you really knew what she had just saw
"wrong anderson, i was thinking about your...uh, your...dad?" you really hated her for being an orphan right now.
"right. my dad. ohhkay." she cocked her brow at you, "didn't think you were that fucked up."
"NO! not your dad, thats not what...not like that" you looked up to see abby fucking laughing at you
a real laugh, one you had only seen from a distance, it seemed to light up her whole face,
that is until you sent a pillow flying off of it
"it's not fucking funny, abby!" her laughter just grew, almost doubling her over as she damn-near snorted
"i just caught you masturbating for me, after telling the whole unit how much you can't stand me," she had to fight off another fit of laughter "how is that not funny?"
your head landed in your hands, yet again. maybe this was just a nightmare, a horrible, cruel nightmare that you would soon wake up from
but it wasn't a nightmare, and when you felt abbys body press up against yours, you didn't think you wanted it to be.
her lips met yours in a harsh collision, both of your bodies a flury of passion and hatred as you both grabbed at every bit of flesh you could
your hands landed on abbys shirt, tugging it over her head in one movement with her sports bra
her tits sat perfectly, right in front of you. they were small, mostly muscle from her vigorous training, and they were absolutely captivating
your mouth found its way to her rosy nipples, sucking them harshly, one after the other
abbys pretty moans bounced off the walls while your tounge worked circles around her nipples,
her back arching off the bed, pressing her chest farther into you
you couldn't stop yourself from blindly searching for the waistband of her jeans, popping your mouth off her chest when you felt her belt
abby watched you with a smirk while you fumbled with her belt buckle, every frustrated grunt you made sent a shock right down to her pussy,
she was too impatient to let you struggle for long, however. you watched as she reached down and flipped her buckle open with one hand
"i need you on my tounge." you muttered, so incredibly turned on by her casual behavior and shit-eatting grin, which she was very aware of
her hips bent upwards, allowing you to pull her jeans and boxers off, eliciting a small gasp from the woman above you as the cold air hit her core
you hadn't pegged abby to care much about body hair,
nobody did anymore, with everything else there was to worry about these days
but sitting pretty under her boxers was a little landing strip, guiding you right down to her soaking cunt
you thanked god when you saw it connected to a little happy trail, you found your lips drawn to it,
leaving little kisses down her stomach, the wiry hairs tickling your lips
abby was writhing under you while you took your time, kissing all around her thighs and stomach,
making sure to give her attention everywhere except exactly the place she needed it
the woman grabbed your hair, tugging it up and forcing you to meet her steel blue eyes
"stop fucking around and eat my pussy." her words were nowhere close to a request,
abby anderson was bossing you around, and you fucking loved it
her hands stayed in your hair as she pushed you down to her cunt, watching as you licked slow, experimental strips up her pussy,
seeing the way her face contored gave you the confirmation you needed to continue sloppily dragging your tounge from her aching hole to her swollen clit
nothing you'd ever had tasted more divine then her, and you found yourself gripping her thighs,
shoving her into your face like you needed her to breathe
no part of you doubted that her scent alone would be enough to get you off,
but you found yourself grinding down into the bed anyway, searching for some form of friction
abby took note of this, watching your pretty ass jiggle with every movement of your hips,
she couldn't even register the absolutely maddening sounds coming out of her,
every moan made your stomach flutter, and you felt high off her voice already
"mm, gonna make me cum if you keep that up pretty girl" abby was trying her best to stay in control, and she was failing miserably
her cocky words held no weight, you could hear the bliss in her voice, and you felt it against your face
every motion you made drove her closer to her release, and she was very vocal about how close she was getting
thoughts of her teasing and flirting came to mind, you couldn't shake all the times she had that stomach-curdling power over you,
and as much as you wanted to continue, you wanted to have that power over her more
so when her moans were getting uncharacteristicly high, and her hips were grinding up with a near painful force,
you pulled back
abbys muscular body squirmed under your gaze as her whines and pleas filled the room,
"wh- what? no, no, no i was so close" you wanted so badly to dive back between her legs, to make her shake and come undone for you,
but she just sounded too good begging for you, so you placed a firm slap on her ass,
eliciting a surprised yelp from her as you gathered your clothes and started getting dressed
abbys desperate eyes followed you, watching with confusion as you threw her clothes into her lap
"they're gonna wonder where we are, better hustle anderson." you said as you head out your door, watching her scramble to get ready and get back before any questions arose.
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you watched as abby scrambled over to the meeting table, all eyes on her and her flushed face
she tried to steady her breath, asking "what?"
manny looked between the two of you, eyes landing on you as you shared a knowing look with him.
"didn't expect you to be so loud abby, ." manny said with the same shit-eatting grin you had seen on her earlier,
both of you doubled over in laughter as her face lit up, random sounds sputtering out while she tried to explain herself.
you were looking forward to having the upper hand over her now.
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listening to abby whimpering audio rn 🧘♀️🎧
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some little facts about pete spankoffski (and story notes) for a fic im writing :]
basically all of canon npmd happens and pete is like,, transported back to the morning directly before the bathroom scene as if nothing happened
- he remembers all of canon npmd. too well, if you asked him
- he can vaguely hear HIS steph talking him through things if (when) they get tough :( not very clearly, though.
- he can also hear the lib (tinky mostly) taunting him in scenes like the waylon place
- his blood sugar is fucked up dude. its bad. like hes having a bit of a rough time balancing it with everything else. he is SO stressed guys
- on a similar note, he quickly gets on emmas good side so he can maybe get his hot chocolate faster (it works)
- he purposefully keeps max off the stairs and when hes questioned he grabs a rock or and throws it (hard) and the stairs collapse
- max shares his beer with steph, ruth, and richie, while pete and grace (of course) stay sober. this happens repeatedly until richie brings better booze and pete joins in lol
- pete hates beer, but he can handle teds rum in very small amounts. he hates the taste of most other alcohols
- pete starts working out and gets as ripped as he can without anyone noticing
- he also starts actively talking to ruth and richie about ANYTHING he can get them to talk about. starwars, anime, games, sex, theatre, he doesnt care.
- none of ruths comments bother him anymore, either. no matter how aggressively thirsty she gets, pete gets to hear one of his best friends talk again. he doesnt mind what shes saying
- petes grades slip a little at first. ok maybe more than a little. his highest grade for about three weeks is a b. 84%
- nobody knows about this until steph gets a higher grade on a test and he cries a little in the bathroom. she got an 89 in math. he got a 76.
- he never actually fully recovers from the grade dip, and his gpa drops permanently from a 4.+ to a steady 3.8
- he chops and dyes his hair three days after the waylon place
- he actually bleaches it and dyes the tips a light redish color
- on a similar red note, he has a bit of a freak out (its a trauma response lets be honest) every time he sees anyone in dark red. especially max with his favorite, blood colored t-shirt
- he has consistent nightmares about shooting steph, and they get worse as the two of them get closer. again.
- she drops about 12 pounds of hints to try to get him to ask her out, but he never reciprocated. she assumes he's oblivious, but in reality hes actually just stuck on the version of steph that helped him dismember a body. the one that held him while he cried over his only friends graves.
- on a happier note, pete isnt beat up anymore :D
yeah anyway ask me about these guys im shaking them in a little jar rn
(this is a draft from december of 2023 😭 im STILL writing this fic. felt it was fair to show this to the world
#peter spankoffski#pete spankoffski#starkid#npmd#nerdy prudes must die#raspy rambles#raspberry writes#npmd au#hints of lautski#orpheus muses#i guess. idk
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What am I if not deeply devoted to my husbands
#I love them sm I'm gonna explode#Thinking abt some random au where we're all in the same universe#And the three of us are in a poly relationship#And while they love me#They deeply hate each other (bc their morals are drastically opposed)#But they work it through hate sex when it gets too bad#And im fujoshi-ing out in the corner#Dream life if i may say#pookie talk
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shouldn’t have — lumberjack!logan x fem!reader
listen usually i would hate this plotline but like ?? are yall seeing what im seeing ?? feminism exists and is alive and well until we see this man and suddenly we’re all damsels in distress
as always, warnings: reader was in an abusive relationship, logan the savior (i have issues ok), dom logan, bratty reader, choking, slapping, rough p in v sex, swearing, breeding kink tee hee
mdni!!!1!!1!1!1!11!
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you had been with your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — for about three months before you had noticed something was wrong. just a few things, you thought. nothing bad. nothing to worry that much about. it felt like he was doing so many things too much; sleeping, drinking, smoking, video games… yelling…
you thought by getting him a job with some men you knew would be fine — that it would solve every problem. why would it not have? he just needs a job, you thought. just something to get him up in the morning… something to give him purpose…
you were wrong — oh, you were so wrong.
at first, everything was fine — up every day, home every night, and only so many hours at the end of the day could be dedicated to all of those bad little habits you hated so, so much. he was drinking, smoking, playing video games so much less — you almost forgot why you were so annoyed and insistent on this new job in the first place.
...until he stopped coming home before midnight.
...until the yelling got worse.
until he got worse.
you almost left him — almost. until, one night — he asked if you could pick him up from the bar after work so he wouldn’t have to wait before he could drive home. you could've squealed you were so relieved, so happy. it seemed like a step in the right direction, and you were hopeful. you thought the kinks were working themselves out, making it so you could finally work out your issues with him. like the good girlfriend you were, you drove to the bar promptly for half past ten and waited in the parking lot for him.
after a few minutes, you sent a text.
a set of ten minutes had passed as you sat there, waiting.
...then another.
...and then another.
you called him, but there was no answer.
no fucking answer.
you ground your teeth when the call was sent to voicemail. voicemail? fucking voicemail? you stared down at the screen like it mocked you — showing you the reflection of your face in the glass like you were some joke, and embarrassment flooded through you.
all you could think about was self-respect — how if you didn't have any respect for yourself, how could your boyfriend respect you? how could anyone respect you?
it brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away.
and there went the last straw…
you got out of the car and slammed the door. you were buzzing with anger, shivering like you were cold. anger filled you, but adrenaline was what carried you on its back through the doors of the bar and past its threshold. it was the only friend you had in that moment, and you grasped at its hand — letting it lead you to your doom.
what you didn't expect what form your doom would take.
…your doom came in the form of a hot blonde with legs and cleavage for days.
she laid horizontal across the bar — shot glass in her belly button, line of salt up her abdomen. you watched a man, dirty from the work day, eye the blonde with hunger in his eyes. he wrapped his dry lips around the rim of the shot glass, and threw his head back. almost immediately, he licked the salt trail with a flat, heavy tongue. the blonde above him giggled at the texture of his tongue on her tanned skin — and once he was done, she grasped both sides of his face and pulled him towards her.
that’s when you saw the guy’s face — smiling and drunk — your boyfriend’s face. men around them hollered as he pushed her against the bar top, kissing her hard. all you could do was stare — adrenaline left you high and dry when you needed it most. you were just cold now — cold, lonely, and embarrassed. so embarrassed. so fucking embarrassed.
“you’re his ol’ lady… aren’t you?”
your head cocked to a stool near you, occupied by one of his coworkers. he had a cigar in his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow at you, barely looking at you. his hand was around two fingers of whisky — and it had never looked so tempting.
“was,” you whispered, politely correcting him and locking eyes with him.
“good,” was all he said before he threw back the rest of his whisky and stood from his chair.
you were still in shock, frozen in place. all you could do was watch as the man pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of your boyfriend. you stared at the man's shoulders — covered by thin flannel that would never stand a chance against the muscles underneath. you gulped as he stood toe to toe with your ex-boyfriend, but the man didn't look half as scared as your ex did.
“you’re fired," was all the man said.
everyone around the man, including the blonde and your boyfriend, went silent. jaws were on the floor — no one knew what to do. what could they do? they weren't expecting this — not when the fun had been going on for so long. the man couldn’t have cared less — he waited for a split moment, awaiting any sort of rebuttal from your ex-boyfriend… and that was when your ex noticed you, staring at him. instead of running to you, begging for forgiveness… he started begging the man that had fired him for his job back.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes. of course.
“not happening, bub,” he spat. “now — i’m going to go buy your ex-girlfriend a drink with your last paycheck. ask your buddies for a loan on the tab with the blonde."
and with that, the man turned on his heel back towards you. when he turned, he didn’t bow his head or look at the floor — he looked straight at you. and for the first time that night, you saw what he really looked like — a man. the man radiated masculinity like he was the poster child for the hard working all-american man. worn jeans, work boots, faded flannel… the works. his body was thick with muscle, and impressive sight that was definitely thanks to his job. the years showed on his face — but in a way that was handsome and reliable. life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him out, but he didn’t look the type to go down without a fight.
with a moment or two, he was in front of you. he sat down on the stool, and patted the one next to him — gesturing to you.
“what’re you having, sweetheart?”
you stared up at him with confusion and surprise in your eyes, but a blush across your cheeks. your mouth fell open, stammering — as if you hadn’t been embarrassed enough tonight. your eyes darted to your ex — the intoxication starting to wear away as realization set in. he lost his job, girlfriend, and ego all in a matter of a moment — and you knew how these things ended.
“i think i should —“
“he won’t bother you,” the man responded, gesturing to the bartender for two more drinks.
you took a cautious step back — eyes on your ex who was talking with his work buddies now, eyeing you and the man. the blonde had been discarded, scoffing as she found herself in a similar position as you — chewed up and spit out, but not willing to fight.
you were fumbling for your keys now, anxiety beginning to take over. you were shaking as you took several steps back, not knowing whether to run or start crying was the better answer.
the man who had stood up for you then stood, sighing. he saw your ex walking towards you now, and he rolled his eyes in the way an owner would be annoyed with a dog going back for something they were explicitly told not to. the man drank his whisky, and handed you the other glass.
the man only had a take one step towards your ex before your ex had stopped in his tracks, eyes and mouth wide.
“got all the time in the world, bub,” the man spoke. the man had his fists balled at his sides — and, within an instant, sharp bones almost two feet long had sprung from between his knuckles. the man didn’t wince — but everyone else did. with a cocked head, he then continued, “do you?”
when your ex didn’t move, and the man was satisfied that none of his friends were going to make a move… he turned on his heel and stalked back toward you.
“finish your drink, sweetheart — we’re leaving.”
within five minutes, you had finished your drink before you went outside. there was logan — same bone swords unsheathed, but now stabbing into black tires on a familiar truck. you smiled — now your ex didn’t have a ride home.
“can i give you a lift?” you asked.
few hours later — there you sat with the man, who you now knew as logan. you were on one side of the couch — you curled in the corner on the end, and him in the middle turned towards you. the alcohol was flowing, so you didn’t need a blanket over you to keep warm. now, sat across from logan, both of you appearing to feel the effects of whisky — all you wanted was his warmth.
“good hostess,” he spoke as you refilled his whisky glass.
you blushed. “nothing compared to what you did for me back there — least i can do.”
“i gotta ask —“ he said, taking a sip. “why him?”
you shrugged. “guess i learned the hard way you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.”
he looked at you then — almost through you. you wondered if he could see the same ghosts in your eyes that you could see in his.
he shook his head then, chuckling — appearing to want to break the heavy air. “you’re too young for talk like that, doll — won’t allow it.”
you returned his laugh, realizing you were happy for the subject change. “not every man is like you, logan — first one i met that would’ve done what you did.”
he set his glass down then, and you were struck with the realization of how broad his chest and shoulders were. how the fabric of the stretched across his muscles. how heavy the scent of whisky, maple, wood, and cigar smoke hung on his clothes. you stopped staring at him to meet his eyes then, but he was already looking at you.
logan caught you staring. a blush rose to your cheeks.
“there was a time where men i knew would’ve killed to be served whisky by a pretty girl like you,” he spoke, voice gruff. “time where i would’ve.”
you smiled, insecure under his gaze. “you’re easy on the eyes, lo — can’t imagine you had to put much effort into getting with someone you wanted.”
“oh, doll —“ he spoke, leaning in towards you. his face was barely inches from you, and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted those big, calloused hands on your soft skin — wanted it so fucking bad — but he wouldn’t put them on you. not yet. not quite yet. “sweet, pretty things like you? worth all of the effort in the fucking world.”
you felt one of his hands — his large fucking hands — slide down from your knee, to the side of your thigh. he squeezed lightly on the flesh, loving the feeling of your soft skin. you met his eyes then, dark and hungry. he wasn’t hesitating — he was waiting for your approval or disapproval. he wanted you to know he wanted you, but also that you had the final say.
“y’gonna let me show you how a real man’s supposed to treat a woman?” he asked, tucking a hair behind your ear. “hmm, sugar? climb in my lap, and i’ll show you.”
curiosity killed the cat, but not before it found out what the secret was.
logan fell back against the couch — man spreading, hands on the tops of his thighs with his eyes on you. only on you. there was no more of the adrenaline from earlier, no — but there was the confidence from the warm, dark liquid flowing through your veins. it gave you the push you needed, making you throw a leg over his hips, and sit your ass down right over the tent in his jeans.
“that’s a girl, yeah…” he spoke, his hands ran up and down your thighs. his eyes were raking up and down your body in the way that your ex had looked at the blonde, and it only added to your confidence. you wanted to be wanted — and logan made you feel more sexy than your ex ever had. “tell me, sweetheart — when you look at me, what do you see?”
“a man,” you respond, before you can stop yourself.
he raises his brow then — surprised, but not displeased at your answer. “ — yeah? and what makes me a man?”
you thought for a second, as the alcohol clouded your ability to be witty. you couldn’t pinpoint why — you just knew. while you were thinking, almost stammering — you felt his hand snack underneath your skirt and find your lacy panties. you were struck with the sudden realization of how badly you wanted to show him what they looked like, convinced he would like them — but he wouldn’t let you take off your skirt. you eyed him, confused.
“not yet, doll,” he spoke, voice hoarse. his eyes never left yours. “not taking off this skirt — no matter how much i want to — until you know for sure that i deserve to.”
“logan…!” you grumbled, throwing your head back in mock laughter and frustration. “y’gonna make me beg? come on —"
“beg? not tonight, darlin’,” he laughed. you felt one of his fingers prod at your folds through your panties, poking through your lips to find the hidden sensitive parts of you. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling — curious and turned on. “but you are gonna tell me everything you’re going to look for in a man from this point on. when i’m satisfied, then i’ll let you cum.”
“didn’t think you liked games,” you breathed, curiosity, pleasure, and anxiety mixing in your blood.
“i don’t,” he said with finality and sincerity. “i teach lessons, sweetheart — and now i’m gonna teach you how a man should treat you."
“yeah?” you breathed, keeping your lips barely centimeters from his. “and how are you going to accomplish that?”
“rock those pretty hips against my hand, baby —“ he spoke, pressing his fingertips against your clothes core. “and tell me types of guys you're goin' to avoid."
you went to question him, confused — but he pulled you right back in. he pressed two finger tips against your panties, creating the most devious fiction against your sensitive bud. you jumped at the feeling, but he kept your hips steady.
“there’s one —“ he chuckled. “didn’t know how to touch you, yeah? so sensitive — ‘s like he never did.”
“he didn’t know how,” you whined, rolling your hips against his fingers and letting your eyes drift close.
“not surprised,” he grunted. “never a good worker either. so, what’re we avoiding next time, sugar, huh? tell me.”
“i don’t know… i don’t…” your mind was warm and fuzzy now, leaving you unable to answer.
he swatted at the flesh of your ass then, causing your hips to jerk and your eyes to open in shock. he looked up at you, unfazed. “you don’t wanna cum, do you? want me to use you just like him — leave that pussy wet and wanting?”
you giggled. “don’t tempt me.”
his hand reached for your throat, an evil smirk on his lips. “you’re a naughty fucking thing.”
you nodded feverishly, loving the grip on your throat. “for you, lo. i’ll avoid lazy men, i promise —“
“you better,” he warned, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his wingers were rubbing hard against your clit, and you wanted him oh, so badly to dip into the fabric and roll around your clit or supple hole. “another — tell me. now.”
“careless,” you whined, your hips jerking. “i’ll avoid careless men, logan, i promise —“
“fuck that,” he spat, the grip tightening on your throat. “you’re mine, darlin’.”
he threw you down onto the couch then, landing on your back with a thud. he gave up on his own game, and your confidence bloomed within you. to be so sweet, so pretty — to make a man like logan stumble? forget what he was doing, all because he wanted you so bad? to be in between your plump thighs, round lips, and encircles in those pretty arms? your cheeks were burning pink as your gaze came back into focus above you. there stood logan, on his knees on the couch, as he unbuttoned his flannel with an animalistic chase in his eyes. you couldn’t help but put yourself on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together to keep the friction and heat up. but your eyes? oh, your perfect, big eyes? they were on logan’s. they told you everything you needed to know as he tore off his belt.
“you want me to use you, baby?” he asked as he unzipped his belt. “that’s what my girl wants?”
“by you, lo — a real man,” you breathed, stroking his cock and lining his cock up with the entrance of your pussy.
“good fucking girl,” he growled, plunging his cock into your pussy.
his hips snapped against yours, causing you to jump into the arm rest. you held onto the arm rest, your pillow, to keep you steady. logan liked the sight — pretending that you had your hands tied up above your head as your breasts lifted with your arched back, preening upwards just for him. he watched the shivers run up and down your spine, causing your nipples to peak. he watched them hungrily as they bounced for him and only him, wanting to pull both into his mouth and show you just how greedy real men are.
and when he saw you release the grip held by one hand, and watched it travel down the length of your abdomen, with the end goal of your clit — he swatted your hand away, angry. his gaze — it screamed how fucking dare you?
“fuck off with that shit —“ he spat, pushing your hand back down to hold onto the head rest. “this first time, darlin’? i make you cum — and you lie there, and you take it.”
you whined at his words, your big beautiful eyes on his hungry irises. you folded your lip in between your teeth before you curled your hips up to meet his, wrapped your legs around his hips. never had you been treated with such confidence, such ease — but you wanted him to work for it, see how far he could go to prove to you that he was the best. “you promise, old man? you can keep up?”
the air went still then — but your smirk didn’t falter. it should've, you would realize later. you should've been afraid of the man, knowing what he was capable of when someone tested him. the difference was... logan welcomed the spice in you, as long as it was his to silence. logan’s eyes went wild and dark then, realizing the challenge. he held back so much with you, trying to keep the man awake and the beast dormant — but the greedy girl in you just kept knocking.
he flipped you then — forcing you onto all fours. he bent you over the arm rest, your throat in the crook of his elbow. his free hand groped and pulled at the flesh of your ass, letting go only to smack it. smacksmacksmack. his tough and calloused skin would leave marks, you were sure of it — but it only made your pussy wetter. the sounds were pornographic, filling the room and his nose and ears.
“wasn’t much of a brat tamer, was he?” he spat, fucking into your puffy pussy. his grip on your throat wasn’t tight, but it kept you in control. there was no moving, and there definitely wasn’t enough air to mouth off. “nothing sweet about you — just a greedy fucking girl with the neediest fucking pussy. i'll get'ya there, doll — don't worry now."
you held onto his forearm for dear life, trying to keep your balance as you arched your back up into him. you felt your juices leak around around your sopping wet cunt and down both of your thighs and logan’s. the air was thick with your scent and sounds, pricking at logan’s heightened hearing. your whines — oh, your whines, your fucking whines! — were filling his ribcage and warming every part of him that wasn’t touching you. his lips were sucking at your neck, nipping at the skin . he felt the vibrations of your moans against his lips and he had to fight every instinct to sink his teeth into your shoulder, ruining you for everyone else.
“please — please —“ you choked, smacking against the arm rest. he pulled your free arm back behind your back, forcing you to take everything he gave you.
“not stopping until that pussy creams, baby,” he spat into your ear. his hips were relentless against yours, plunging in and out of your wet folds as he kept them tight and controlled for his use. “when that dumb fuck comes back, to get his stuff? i want him to know who’s pussy this is now. that fucked out look on your face? yeah? that’s all that sack of shit is gonna see before i slam the door in his face.”
“fuck, logan —“ you whimpered. “i’m so close. f-feels so good. please, don’t stop —“
“i know, baby, i know….” he moaned. you reached underneath him, grabbing at his heavy sack and rolling his balls with your finger tips. he jumped at the feeling, curious how a fucked out little thing like you still had so much energy to tease. “never ends with you, huh, does it? always wan’ more?”
“cum with me, lo —“ you choked out. “come on — make me feel it.”
he smacked your ass once more, grasping onto the rippling skin. you could feel your tight muscles, like cement — knowing they would be sore in the morning. you rolled his balls in between your fingers, keeping as controlling of a grip on him as he kept on you. his breaths were ragged against your neck, broken and feverish. your eyes were screwed shut, trying to find his lips in the darkness as you fought with and against logan.
“fill my pussy, baby,” you whined, reaching to any part of him you could grab.
when he saw your eyes, most of the begging in them rather than your tone — he couldn't help it. it took over him before he could even realize it was happening. how could he deny you so,ething you wanted so badly? asked for so sweetly? logan came before you did — much to his dismay, but only for a moment. he felt his skin shiver before his hips snapped forward once to meet yours, trapping you against the arm rest. he rutted into you as the walls of your pussy were coated — dressed in his seed, his spend, his claim. you could hear a growl rumble low in his chest, tearing up at the sound of such a big and strong man at his most vulnerable, his most peaceful state — only for you.
when you reached for your clit again — whining and wanting, ready to take advantage of hearing his satisfied moans in your ear — he smacked your hand away. you scoffed at his movement, but he shut you up quickly. his own fingers found the spot, and his fingers felt better than yours. you should’ve known they would, with the way they attacked you through your panties.
“pussy’s filled to the brim, sugar —“ he grunted. “now i wanna feel it shake while you’re full of me.”
he was so tired, but not his muscles — definitely not his muscles, nor his grip. it held you tight and upright — forcing you to take it in your weak, fucked out state.
“you want me to fuck my cum farther into you, darlin’?” he rasped, fighting his exhaustion through gritted teeth. “i’m too deep, aren’t i? i’ll fuck my cum into your womb if i’m not careful… but you'd like that, wouldn't you? dirty little thing..."
his warning was a threat, but your mind was too soft to realize. too pliant, too ready for him. all you could do was stare off into space as he held you close to him. his fingers spun circles around your puffy clit, his still hard cock piercing into you. “so very deep, lo…”
and when he smacked your clit once before continuing the assault, you came. you came harder than you ever had before — alone, or imagining something in your head as someone else fucked you. it was like your primal nature was being ripped from you, wanting to show and present itself to match logan’s — to show logan you were his match, that you were his equal. you bucked your hips back to meet his, letting the tip of his sensitive cock graze your sensitive walls as you screamed his name. it filled the room more than anything had for him — and it was all he would think about in the days to come. this woman, so worthy and so ready for him — only for him, and all for him.
“that’s it, sweetheart. work for it, that’s right…”
and as his seed slipped into your womb, open and ready for him as you came, you felt his lips press hard, sloppy kisses against your jaw. your own mouth was open, cries falling from it.
“my good girl learned her lesson, didn’t she?” he rasped. “don’t matter now, anyway — no one but me is gonna be in your bed. i'll burn his shit later."
———
i need to touch grass - L xoxo lmk what u think
#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#the wolverine#logan wolverine#wolverine#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#logan howlett
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Skin Deep
Tattoo artist!Simon x fem!reader. Reader, looking to expand her horizons, gets her first tattoo from Simon. 8.4k. Features: soft!Simon who is bad at people-ing, vaginal sex, lots of nipples, like at least three nipples, poor writing, abrupt transitions, shy and awkward reader. Based on this post.
Sequel here.
-
“I bit the bullet!” you shout over the music, hand cupped around your friend’s ear to be better heard. She shrieks in delight at the sound of your voice, turning to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you close to her swaying body. Many eyes in the club follow her movements. She has always been the wild child to your wallflower, attracting attention wherever she goes.
“You bit what?” she shouts back, her breath like a mint julep.
“The bullet,” you laugh. “I called that guy you recommended and set up an appointment. For the tattoo I wanted!”
She stares at you blankly. Her silky little tank top is drooping off of one shoulder, so you reach out and tuck it back into place. The longer she stares, the more nervous you grow. She’d been so encouraging after your last boyfriend dumped you—encouraging you to step outside your comfort zone, to ‘make more mistakes’, to live life more fully. Now she’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head and it’s the one doing the talking.
“What guy I recommended?” she asks.
“Kevin!”
“Oh no. No, no, no. Not Kevin. Not Kevin. Why, Kevin?”
You frown. “You said you went to Kevin.”
“It wasn’t a recommendation, sweetie, if anything it was to caution you away from him! He’s a creep; there’s a reason why I never went back.”
You deflate like a balloon, going limp and letting her drag you to the nearby free seats at the bar where you sit heavily. It’s not just the tattoo. It’s the icing on a shitcake of a day.
A new song seamlessly starts, and the dancers nearby go wild with excitement. Your mood is the antithesis of the event; everyone seems to be having a great time except for you. Story of your life.
“You conveniently left that out. Ugh. I’ll cancel it. What am I even fucking doing—thank you—” you accept the cup of ice water the bartender slides in front of you with a shy smile, sipping at it and keeping your hand curled over the top of it protectively. “—none of this is like me.”
Your friend frowns. She steals your drink and sips at it. “You were the one who said you’d always wanted a tattoo. You’re an adult. These are exactly the kinds of decisions you’re old enough to make. Look, fuck Kevin. All my friends hate Kevin. I know another guy, and he’s highly recommended. Let me give you his number. Alright?”
“Alright,” you sigh. You make a silent promise to yourself though: if it doesn’t work out with this next tattoo artist, then you won’t be getting one at all. You’ll take it as a sign from the universe to get back in your comfort zone and stay there, once and for all.
-
What kind of a moniker is Ghost? you wonder to yourself as you skim the Instagram of the shop this Ghost owns. The profile picture is one of the building itself, and all of the pictures are of various inked body parts. Beautiful ones, admittedly. But no hint of the mysterious figure who owns the shop. There is a personal instagram linked @GHOST89 but it is private when you try to click on it.
The phone number your friend gave you rings straight through to voicemail. You let out a shaky breath. Fuck, you hate voicemail. Talking to people was difficult enough; talking to people’s disembodied machines was even worse somehow. It isn’t until you’ve hung up after leaving your message that you realize you forgot to tell him your fucking name (genius!). Groaning, you contemplate dialing him back when the phone in your hand rings—and it’s him.
“Hello?”
“I’m free Wednesdays for consultations,” says a baritone voice from the other end of the line.
Nice to talk to you too, you think dryly. Maybe this guy is as bad at the phone as you are. “I work Wednesdays. Are you free in the evenings?”
He sighs, like this is going to be very strenuous for him.
“Name a time. I’ll pencil you in. Half is due at the end of the consultation upon booking an appointment. Cash only,” he says.
Jesus Christ, could he be anymore abrupt? While a tiny part of you is grateful that he isn’t trying to make small talk, a larger part is terrified that you’ve already made an impression so foul that it’s incurred his wrath. What other reason could he have for being so stilted?
“Alright,” you answer cautiously. “How’s five?”
“Five. Don’t be late.”
He hangs up on you, leaving you wondering why every step outside your comfort zone must be so bloody far.
-
You arrive early to the consultation, only to find that the building itself—a tidy little brick two-floor, adorned with a sign that dubbed it SKIN DEEP tattoos & artisan piercings, which you recognize from Instagram—is locked. A note written in neat handwriting taped to the door declares NO WALK INS. Your palms are sweaty. You wipe them on your work slacks, but it doesn’t help. How are you supposed to get in?
All at once a shadow appears on the other side of the door. The shadow is enormous: well above six feet tall, and broad shouldered. A black surgical mask is tucked up over his mouth and nose, which only adds to his intimidating aura. Judging by the impressive sleeve of tattoos he has, you imagine that this is the guy.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And Ghost.
Dark brown eyes stare down at you when he opens the door, cocking a hip against the frame, staring at you. Waiting.
Waiting for you to explain your presence, you realize.
“I have a consultation,” you blurt out. “At…five?”
He opens the door wider to let you pass without a word. He’s so broad that you can smell him as you pass him: clean and masculine. The inside of the tattoo shop is bigger than it looks on the outside. There is a reception area with a desk and a computer and printer. The glossy wooden floors are polished to shine, leading to an open floor plan. There is a small sitting area with armchairs, a wide sofa, and a table on which rests two bottles of water, a notebook, and a steaming mug of liquid.
“Sit,” he says, his voice the same deep rumble you recognize from the phone. He chooses the chair beside the mug. His body is so goddamn long, his legs lean and thick all at once where he stretches them out in front of him. He reaches for the mug and takes a sip—of tea, judging by the smell. “Name?”
You tell him, perching yourself anxiously on the other chair. He glances up at you, eyes raking over your posture. Suddenly he tugs the mask down to rest beneath his chin, revealing a full, pale mouth. A straight, noble nose. A pink scar stretches across his lips and up towards his cheek.
“The water is for you,” he says.
“Oh!” You reach forward and take one bottle, breaking the seal. “Thank you.”
“This is your first tattoo.”
“What gave me away?” you ask with a weak laugh.
He doesn’t laugh. “Everything. Is someone putting you up to this? This smells like Soap.”
“What? No, of course not. I want this, I’m just, I’m an anxious personality. I promise.” You hesitate and then add: “I probably smell like soap because I showered this morning.”
His mouth twitches. He leans back in his seat and sucks on his teeth, and you get the distinct feeling that he is trying very hard not to laugh at you. Why had you mentioned to him that you showered? What was wrong with you? Just as you’re comprising a list of things, he picks up the pencil and the notebook, opening to a fresh page.
He asks what you want and God, that’s a harder question.
You do your best to express your idea, but your words feel halting and silly. His pencil scratches rapidly at the paper as he listens in total silence—pausing only once, when you say that you want this to be a sternum piece. Only then does his pencil seem to hover over the paper, his dark eyes seeking you out and pinning you in place on the armchair.
He reaches for his tea to take a generous sip and then continues writing.
He asks a few pointed, concise questions (and you’re just thrilled he was actually listening), following your answers up with more scribbling in his notebook. At length, he shuts the book.
“I think I see the vision. Give me thirty to sketch something and we’ll see if you want to book an appointment. Something this size, on your sternum could take more than one session, depending on how well you sit. How do you take pain?”
“I mean, it hurts?” you offer.
He stares. “Two sessions. Let me sketch something. Drink your water.”
You think that maybe he’ll move to another room to sketch, but he just flips to a clean page and begins to work right there (drawing the mask up over his nose and mouth again). With nothing else to do, you can’t help but watch him.
He’s handsome, in an odd sort of way. His brow is a little too low, his gaze a little too intimidating to be considered conventionally attractive, but you find him fascinating to look at, especially when he is so clearly in the throes of something he enjoys doing. It’s almost like watching someone have sex. The thought makes your face go warm. You pick up your phone, determined not to look at him again.
“Here.”
You glance up from your mindless scrolling. What he shows you is a beautiful rendition of what you had expressed wanting. There are a few key differences, and he patiently explains why he made the decisions he did. He didn’t make the changes because he thought your idea was stupid. He made them so the image would better fit the contours of your body. He made them because the ink will spread over time, and he wants the look to stay clean.
His thoughtfulness touches you.
“I love it. I want it,” you say, enthusiasm getting the better of you.
“This is just a first sketch,” he says dryly, making that warmth return to your face. “I’ll text you a few variations this week, and we can nail down the final piece. You want to book?”
“Yes,” you say, nearly buzzing. “I really want to book.”
He’s expensive—but judging by the book of his artwork that is available for you to flip through at the front desk while he quotes you a price and writes you up a receipt, he is more than worth the money. Fuck, he’s got skill. You thought that maybe his art style was too dark for what you wanted, but you found that he was able to adapt styles nicely. You just hoped this tattoo wouldn’t bore him to death.
“Thanks again for meeting with me,” you say as he sees you out. “I’ll be waiting for your text.”
“You’ll get it.” He glances past you out the window. It’s dark. “Did you walk?”
“No, my car is just there.”
“I’ll wait.”
And he does. His figure darkens the doorway until you have shut your car and locked the doors, temporary insanity making you give him a short wave. He raises two fingers and then disappears.
-
You didn’t tell me this guy was cute, you text to your friend.
GHOST? Cute? I’ve never even seen his face lol. He’s always wearing one of his masks.
You chew over this information. Yes he’d been wearing a mask, but he’d lowered it for you. Did that mean something? Did it mean something that you wanted it to mean something?
Masks are cute, you say.
Fuck the tattoo artist!!!! she says. Maybe he’ll ink you for free.
You’re terrible.
You’re…thinking about it.
-
Two days later, you squint blearily into the darkness at your phone after it vibrates on your nightstand. The time reads twelve past one in the morning. It’s from GHOST.
The two images he sends are beautiful; enough to rouse you straight from sleep into wakefulness.
I love them both, you tell him. But the second one is amazing. I think that’s the one.
Keep your appointment. Ten minutes later (after you have already fallen back to sleep) he sends: wear something appropriate.
And fuck, you didn’t even think of that.
-
“You’re being ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself in the mirror, turning sideways to assess yourself. On the bed behind you are a series of button up shirts, all of which you have tried on at one point or another.
“You are,” your friend agrees from where she lounges on your bed, scrolling on her phone. “Your tits are cute. Let Ghost see them.”
The look you give her is the one the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was modeled after, surely. She doesn’t even see it, so the effect is lost entirely. You turn your gaze back to the silicone nipple adhesive covers again, still stuck to their adhesive backing. You’ve already used one set of the pack of three, and they covered your nipple and areolas nicely, but still left you feeling so exposed.
“Be glad you’re not going to creepy Kevin anymore,” your friend says.
“Very glad of it.”
You felt reasonably safe with Ghost, but still a degree of embarrassment about your own body. Or perhaps that was too strong a word—it didn’t embarrass you, but it felt private. Baring your breasts to a near stranger (especially one you had a grudging attraction to) made your anxiety reach epic level proportions.
“You should text him about it, see if he has any advice for you. He’s been doing this for years. I’m sure he’s seen it all,” she says—the first good idea she’s had all night, miles ahead of ‘Just let Ghost see your cute tits’.
That night, you take her advice and text him, hoping you aren’t overstepping some weird artist-client boundary.
I’m a little nervous.
You can cancel, is all he says. I’ll refund your money.
It’s not that.
What is it?
Not really accustomed to the nakedness tbh. There. You said it. Let him think you some prim priss; it was true.
But all he said back was: how can I help?
I don’t know, you admit. Then; sorry. I’m probably bothering you with this while you’re working.
I’m not working. Five minutes later, when it seems as if you aren’t going to message back: I keep the shop closed to the public. One customer at a time: you. I’ll let my piercer know I’m with a client and not to walk in. I’ll keep you covered every moment I can. Better?
Relief, warm and sweet curling low in your belly, you let him know: much better.
-
You bring the pasties anyway.
-
The day of your appointment, you are so nervous you are shaking. Now you know the truth behind the phrase ‘knees knocking together’, as you stand outside SKIN DEEP waiting for Ghost’s hulking figure to appear on the other side of the glass.
When it does, he’s like a little punch to the gut. That black surgical mask is in place—typical for him, if your friend’s words are to be trusted—but his blond hair, cropped short to his scalp is riotous in a way that is adorably charming, like he hasn’t been able to keep his hands out of it. His black t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, and his jeans fit him nicely around his thick thighs.
You’re horrified to find that your attraction to him has grown. Exponentially. Your friend’s words echo in your mind—fuck the tattoo artist, maybe he’ll ink you for free.
“Hi,” you squeak.
Ghost raises both his brows. He opens the door wider for you to slip past him. Fuck he still smells good.
“I’m still nervous,” you blurt out, hoping that speaking the truth out loud will help you feel better. It doesn’t.
“That’s normal. You can back out at any time, but the earlier the better. Come look at the image and tell me if it’s still what you want.”
It’s exactly what you want, and more.
“It’s perfect. You’re very talented.”
He huffs a little, like you shouldn’t have said such a thing.
The chair is a great leather contraption which reclines comfortably once he’s gotten you in it (after making you use the restroom first, during which you took the time to splash water on your burning face and double check that your pasties were in place covering all the cutest bits according to your friend). Simon moves around you, making preparations with the ease of someone who has done this work for many years.
You fight the arousal that blooms in your belly at the sight of him doing such benign things as washing his hands, putting on gloves, opening fresh needles, preparing little wells of ink and sticking them to the movable cart with Vaseline. There’s just something about a person who knows exactly what they’re doing and who is able to do it with efficacy.
“Ready?” he asks at length.
You nod, hoping your nerves don’t show on your face. Steeling yourself, you unbutton the shirt you’re wearing. His eyes follow your hands, but there is a detached, clinical sort of expression in them. He’s not watching a strip tease, he’s looking at a canvas.
Finally, you sit in front of him in only the pasties, the shirt lax around your shoulders, and your sweatpants, socked toes curling in anxiety in your shoes. Without missing a beat, he leans the chair all the way back. Then he opens a fresh disposable razor and shaves you.
“Am I hairy?” you ask, resting your hands oh-so-casually over your breasts to keep them out of his way.
“Yes,” he says. Then his eyes flicker to yours. “Everyone is. Everywhere. It’s normal.”
“I’m just teasing you.”
“Didn’t think you had the breath in your body left to tease me,” he mutters, voice nearly lost behind his mask as he carefully works the razor across your skin removing the baby-fine hairs from beneath your breasts and across your sternum. “You’re nervous, I mean.”
“Would you take the mask off?” you ask on a whim. It had helped last time, to see his face.
“No,” he says. He adds: “Sorry. It’s more sanitary f’you if I keep it on.”
You get the feeling that he really is sorry—and that’s well enough. Some of the anxiety in your belly fades away. He would take it off if he could. The most anxious part of the process (baring yourself to a stranger) has already passed. Maybe now you can begin to relax.
After cleaning your skin, he carefully lays the stencil and has you stand up to look at it in the mirror and make sure the placement is correct and holy fucking shit. It’s sexy. You’ve always been attracted to tattoos, and fancied the idea of getting one on your sternum for far longer than you’d ever admitted to anyone, but seeing it come to life gives you a rush you hadn’t expected. You feel so…badass.
“Good?” He asks.
“Very good,” you answer, sitting back down, hoping he ignores the way your breasts bounce a little as you do. He leans you back again and this time breaks out the needle gun.
But before he uses it on you, he carefully takes a clean towel and lays it over your left breast, covering the parts of you that are not nearest to his eyes. His gentleness and thoughtfulness go straight to your cunt.
“Thank you,” you say softly.
He just nods. The gun buzzes to life. “I’ll make a line and see how you feel. Last chance to back out without any souvenirs.”
“I’m not backing out.”
He clicks his tongue as if to say, It’s your funeral. Then he lays his hand on your sternum above your breasts, pinning you in place, and makes a gentle line.
It burns more than you expected it to. There’s a sandpaper quality to it, almost like the rasping of a cat’s tongue. The pain is sharp and bright, but it isn’t overwhelming. In fact…a strange part of you sort of enjoys it. Maybe it’s the rush of endorphins.
“Good?” He asks.
“Good,” you squeak.
You hear his quiet laugh, no more than an exhale of breath.
“Let me know when you need to break.”
You don’t know how you feel about the way he phrases that: when you need to break. He adjusts his mask a little, leans over you, and gets to work. Sometimes the needles pass over a place that is more sensitive than the others, making you flinch. He pauses when this happens, eyes flickering up to your own, making sure you are alright even though he can likely feel the pounding of your heart beneath his hand. That hand on your chest, wrist just brushing the top of your breast, is a solid warm weight that seems to tether you back down to the earth as he lines you. He is very careful not to brush against your breast when he wipes away the excess ink and traces of blood, but you feel hyper-attuned to how easy it would be for him if he wanted to. How huge his hand is compared to your tit. Beneath the pasties, your nipples ache with tension, a tension that is mirrored between your legs.
“Alright. Break,” he says, abruptly turning the gun off. He covers your exposed breast with another towel. “Take ten.”
He disposes of his gloves and disappears behind a curtain in the back, leaving you throbbing between the legs. Worming your phone free from your pocket, you scroll aimlessly, hoping to calm your raging hormones. He returns right at the ten minute mark, just as his cellphone rings. He glances toward where it rests on the table, but makes no move to answer it.
“Do you need to get that?” you ask, offering him an out.
“No,” he says. “I make everyone leave a message. Weeds out the cowards.”
It had almost weeded out you, you think about telling him, but in the end you decide against it. He gloves back up.
“Good for more?”
And so it repeats.
At one point, he runs into a patch of sensitive skin on your ribs just overlaying the bone. It has you sucking in a breath through your teeth, eyes squeezing shut. It’s too late to turn back now you tell yourself; the only way out is through.
His thumb gently strokes your sternum.
“It’s rough. You can take it,” he says, quiet and focused. The buzzing of the gun never ceases as he tries to make his work as quick as possible, his words a little distant and distracted. “Just keep breathing. That’s it. Good girl.”
Jesus. Did he not have any idea what those words could do to a girl? A groan escapes your lips, and he clearly mistakes it for pain, because his thumb strokes again the soft skin over your heart, just above the curve of your breast.
“You can do it. Just a little longer for me, and we’ll break.”
“Hurts,” you breathe, flinching again.
He hushes you, surprisingly tender.
“This is the worst of it.” This time, his thumb does brush the edge of your breast, making you suck in a gasp. He recoils, hand lifting away from you and curling into a fist. He rests that against you instead, taking away any further hope that he might brush his fingertips against you. You make it through the rough patch with tears in your eyes but no worse for wear.
“Break. Ten minutes,” he says again, already shredding his gloves and moving to disappear behind the curtain.
You call out: “Hey, wait—I’d rather just get through it in one go if I can. If this really is the worst of it.”
“I need breaks too,” he says stonily.
You duck your head, feeling silly. “Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He vanishes again.
He is late to return to you. Only by five minutes or so, but noticeably for a man so usually punctual and so demanding of punctuality in you. His face is stoic—what bits of it you can see from behind the mask—as he washes his hands thoroughly and preps his work station again.
This time his hand keeps a very respectable distance from your breasts—a fact which you both lament and appreciate all in one. He works with single-minded efficiency, giving you his entire focus. You break once more, but this time he breaks in the room with you, stretching out his back and neck (giving you a generous glimpse of his belly when his shirt rides up, exposing cut abs and a happy trail you’d give your life to follow).
“I think we could do this in one sitting, if you have nowhere else to be,” he mutters at length.
“Eager to be done?” you wonder.
He stares at you, expression flat, and says nothing. Nothing needs to be said.
“I don’t have anywhere to be,” you murmur, staring up at the bright adjustable light that he has positioned over you. You hope he mistakes that for the reason behind any mistiness in your eyes, his rudeness cutting you deeply.
So the two of you push through later into the evening, until you are sweating at your temples and the base of your neck from the continuous pain for so long. At last he lays the last gradient for the shading, sprays you down, and wipes you clean so very gently.
“Go take a look. I’m going to cover it up.”
It’s beautiful. Stunning, even. You let your shirt gape closed and cover the pasties, revealing a broad glimpse of the sternum tattoo, and it is the sexiest you have ever felt. It almost makes your eyes burn anew.
“I love it,” you choke out. “Thank you.”
“Can I take a picture of it?” he asks. “For Instagram.”
“Sure!” It will feel a little like being famous, you think, judging by how much notice each of the photos on his Instagram garners. He crouches down on the floor to be at the perfect height, reaches out and gently adjusts your shirt. Parts of the tattoo are covered—the very far edges—but you can’t deny how sexy it is. Maybe he feels the same way.
After he takes the photo, he posts it and asks for your handle to tag you in it. Then he says: “Let me cover it up. Keep it covered overnight, but tomorrow let it breathe. Keep it clean. Don’t do anything stupid to it. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“And if you have any questions—text me.”
-
You get home to find that Ghost’s personal account has requested to follow you. Thrumming with nerves and excitement, you accept the request and send one of your own, spending the night scrolling through his Instagram (so, so carefully to avoid any incidental ‘likes’). Plenty of the photos are of his artwork, still. But there are ones of his dog: a German Shepherd that is thankfully much more photogenic than her surly owner. There are three or four photos featuring Ghost himself, and only one has his full face in the picture. You find yourself staring at his fixated expression for longer than is respectable.
-
Three days later when you find yourself panicking, you don’t text him like he asked you to. You call.
Your skin is peeling off. Peeling. Off. The sight of it makes your stomach roll. The entire tattoo is hot to the touch, and the skin around it feels warm as well. Flushed. Is it supposed to hurt this much?
The internet doesn’t help. The peeling is normal, sure. But everything else is suggesting that your tattoo could be infected. What sort of ink did Ghost use? Was it reputable? What if the infection reaches your bloodstream? You were too young to die! Your anxiety spirals like a plane with one wing, trailing smoke as it soars straight down, determined to take you with it.
With shaking hands, you don’t even think about texting Ghost. You go straight to calling him, tapping his number in your phone and pressing it to your ear, listening to the ring.
He’s going to send you to voicemail, just like he does to everyone else—except he doesn’t. All the sudden there is glorious feedback from the other end: a cacophony of voices and laughter, clearly some sort of gathering.
“Yes?” Ghost says into the phone, as if that’s a decent hello.
“There’s something wrong with my tattoo!” you cry.
“Wait—get out of my goddamn way.” There is rustling, and then the noise decreases substantially. You can almost see him standing outside whatever bar his friends have brought him to, mask down around his chin, hand over his other ear as he strains to listen to you. “Say it again. Now I can fucking hear you.”
“There’s. Something. Wrong,” you say through your teeth. “With my tattoo!”
“Well? What is it?”
“It’s falling off, for one!”
He snorts. “That’s normal. That's why you called?”
“It’s all swollen and hot. And it hurts.”
Now that shuts him up. He sighs a little, switches the phone from one ear to the other. “Hurts how bad?”
“Worse than getting it.”
“Fuck me. Alright. Meet me at the shop in…twenty?”
“Twenty minutes from now?”
“From when else?” He hangs up. Man doesn’t know the meaning of the word goodbye.
-
The night is cool. You don’t bother with a bra, not when it irritates your tattoo so much. Pulling your jacket closed more tightly around yourself, you walk from your parking spot along the street to the tattoo shop.
Ghost stands outside at the curb. His figure is unmistakable. He is smoking, mask down, the lit end of his cigarette a burning ember that flares bright in the darkness. When he sees you coming, he crushes the cigarette beneath his boot and opens the door to the shop, which is still and dark. He flicks on a light switch as he goes, casting the place in a warm glow.
He’s dressed in his usual dark jeans and an obscenely tight t-shirt, his sleeve of tattoos on display. He leaves the mask down. His eyes are on your tits—or resting where your tattoo is beneath your clothes.
“Well. Sit. Show me.”
You sit in one of the armchairs, your shoulders rising in defensiveness. “What, just flash you?”
“Nothing I’ve never seen before.”
Gritting your teeth, you begin unbuttoning your shirt until it gapes open. You cup your breasts with your hands, maintaining your modesty while putting the tattoo on full display. He narrows his eyes, leaning down. His fingers reach out, but then he thinks twice and washes his hands.
“I was smoking,” he says when you roll your eyes in exasperation.
“You’re worried about getting the chemicals on my skin but not in your lungs?”
“Fuck my lungs,” he mutters. His fingers hover over your tattoo. “Can I?”
You nod. His fingers are cool when they gently prod and ghost along the edges of the tattoo, feeling for the signature warmth of an infection. “Any fever?” he asks.
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
“You feel warm, but I’ve felt warmer. I don’t think it’s infected. Have you tried icing it?”
“No,” you admit.
“Ice will help. Just use something clean, for fuck’s sake.” As he speaks, his breath fans across your chest, making you shiver. He sees this, his eyes darkening. “When you called, I thought it was for me.”
“It was for you,” you say, brow furrowing. “Who else?”
He snorts, lips quirking. It tugs on the scar across his lips. “Forget it.”
“Forget what?”
“Talking about it goes against forgetting it.”
You groan, tossing up your hands. “You’re impossible.”
He reaches out and jerks your shirt closed, hastily doing up a button. Your face burns as you do up the rest of the buttons—you end up having to backtrack and redo them because he was off by one.
“Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry it was for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing,” he says. “And I wasn’t doing much.”
“You were with friends,” you insist.
His eyes narrow. “Who told you that?”
“I saw it on your Instagram tonight.”
“Nosey.”
“I could buy you a drink sometime,” you offer after a lengthy pause, your heart pounding loud enough to fill the silence between you. Are you really doing this? Are you really asking him out? “Make up for the ones I lost you tonight.”
“Maybe.”
God, it’s like he’s not getting it. Maybe you need to be bolder. Fortune favors the bold, doesn’t it? Your hands are shaking when they fall back to the buttons on your shirt.
“Would you take one more look at my tattoo? Just to be…positive?”
He sighs and makes an impatient hand gesture. Your fingers fumble through the buttons again. You don’t cover yourself with your hands this time; just keep the halves of your shirt over your nipples. He dutifully exams the tattoo again, prodding gently, laying the flat of his fingers against it to feel the warmth it lets off.
“Maybe you should look closer.”
His eyes flicker up to yours. “Closer.”
Your mouth is dry. “Yeah.”
“Can’t get much closer than I am.”
“You could—if you wanted to.”
“If I—“ it hits him then. You can see it in the fractional widening of his eyes, the way his mouth parts softly in blatant surprise before he shuts it, dark eyes returning to your sternum. He says: “Closer.”
“Mhm.”
The back of his hand brushes against your breast, causing your breath to hitch. His thumb traces softly along the outline of the tattoo, following the path just beneath your shirt, nudging the fabric aside slowly, so slowly, until your breast is bare, nipple puckered and aching.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. His eyes flicker to yours as if to see if you really want this—and whatever he sees must reassure him, because then he is sweeping his fingertips along the bottom curve of your breast and taking it into his hand, his palm rasping gently over your nipple. All the breath rushes out of you. Your thighs clench together. Already you’re aching—have been since you saw his mouth around that cigarette on the street—but he moves with determined caution. His thumb finds your nipple and teases it, pulling a desperate little sound from the back of your throat.
“Pretty little tits,” he says, his voice a warm, smoky rumble that goes straight to your core. He captures your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching softly.
“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand reaching out to brace yourself against his shoulder. He is solid and firm beneath your touch, unmoving and unmalleable. Your breasts have always been sensitive, but it feels like every touch is directly related to the feelings in your cunt. You find your back arching, hips searching for friction against the seat of the chair.
“Be still,” he says firmly. Another pitiful sound slips past your throat. “Let me play with you.”
“Please,” you gasp. “Play with me—even if that’s all you want—just don’t stop, please.”
His mouth parts as he listens to you, his eyes so, so dark. The pupils have nearly swallowed his irises whole, until you can see yourself bare from the waist up in the reflection. He shakes his head a little. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”
“I do. I—“ your words are cut off with a gasp as he hauls you out of the chair by your wrist and onto his lap. He’s so thick thighed that it stretches you obscenely to have him between your legs. His hands tear the button-up off your shoulders and down your arms until it flutters to the floor, leaving you half naked. Dipping his head, he presses a heated kiss to the place on your sternum where he had rested his hand during the tattoo—and then trails wet kisses towards your left breast, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking with a decided softness.
You let out an unflattering, choked groan, resting your weight heavily against him until you can feel the prominent bulge in his tight jeans. His hands find your ass and grip you tightly, working you back and forth, rubbing that bulge against your clothed sex.
“Driving me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, opening his mouth to drag the sharp line of his teeth against the curve of one breast before switching to the other and flicking his tongue over your nipple.
You gape at his admission. Had you been? He’d been so closed off and cool…though now that you thought back, maybe that was just his way of hiding it. Suddenly he grips the back of your neck, where your hairline ends, and pulls you to his mouth. He tastes faintly of smoke, even fainter of the drinks he had had earlier in the night, but it is an intoxicating mixture. Your tongues find a rhythm as your hips do the same, both of you fucking in every sense of the word except the literal kind.
He takes one of your thighs and wedges it between his own, until you’re no longer grinding against his cock but instead his denim-clad thigh. “You the kind of girl who can cum like this? Just from this?”
“Uh-huh,” you promise, head bobbing.
He buries his face in your neck. “Good. I won’t last when I’ve got my cock in you. I’d like you to cum at least once before then.”
“Oh god,” you groan, gripping his shoulders fiercely as you begin a halting, stilted rhythm against his thigh. The denim is rough against your leggings. He feels all around you: his scent, his taste, his touch. When his hands find your hips to help you work yourself against him more smoothly, a sigh of gratitude fans from your lips.
“What else do you need?” he asks.
“My—touch me—“ He abandons your hips once you find a suitable rhythm. He finds your nipples again, teasing them with clever fingers. The stimulation has your peak approaching faster, building like a storm in your lower belly.
Ghost leans back to look at you, eyes trailing over you from head to toe: your face burning with warmth, your breasts with peaked little nipples, your leggings nearly soaked through at the crotch with how wet you are. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“Fucking perfect.” You bury your face in his neck, feeling a warmth inside your chest. He grips you by the neck again and tugs you back. “Look at me. Look at me.”
You look at him for as long as you can, but when the band in your belly finally snaps, your eyes roll up and slip shut, your mouth drops open in a choked gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as you shudder and shake in the throes of your pleasure.
He leans down to kiss you through it, tongue teasing at your slack mouth.
When he stands, he takes you with him, hauling you up until you wrap your shaking legs around his waist. It’s probably a good thing too. You aren’t sure you could walk otherwise. He carries you the few steps to the couch and lays you down, curling his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. You nod. He strips them off you, along with your flats, and your panties until you are naked as the day you were born.
Your thighs clamp together shyly. He lets them, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt off. Something catches your eye in the streetlights streaming in through the window: Ghost has one of his nipples pierced, a neat little barbell through the sensitive flesh.
Fingers enter your vision—your own—reaching out on instinct. You hesitate, unsure if he is receptive, and a little afraid to hurt him. He’s so bloody tall, too…but he takes care of that himself by kneeling down by your side, his eyes cautious. Closer, you can see the scars: silvery in the moonlight, crisscrossing over his torso.
“Does it hurt?” You ask, softly stroking your fingers beneath the pale pink skin of his areola.
“No,” he says. You can feel the timber of his warm voice vibrating through his chest, up your fingers, straight to your pussy. “You can play with it.”
You shyly run your thumb over it the way he had yours. He sighs, breath fanning across your arm. His eyes go heavy-lidded, tongue flashing as he wets his lips. After a moment, you grow insecure and move your hands away from his nipple down to a scar that crosses his sternum. He lets you, very patient, like a dangerous creature withholding its bite.
“You’re so—“ the words are whispered dreamily before you have any idea how you plan to finish the sentence. Flushing with embarrassed heat under his wary stare, you finish: “—hot.”
He physically turns away, expression inscrutable. You can’t help but feel like you have said the wrong thing. He puts a hand on your belly, stroking the softness. “You broken, or can you take more?”
“I want more.”
“Want my cock?”
You nod, feeling like a bobble head.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I want your cock.”
His hand reaches for his belt, unbuckling it. Your eyes track the movement with hungry nerves. His hands put butterflies in your belly: thick palms with long, slender fingers, veins criss-crossing along the backs. An artist’s hands. He works his belt free with nimble grace and shucks down his jeans and underwear in one smooth movement, revealing his cock to your gaze and the light from the street lamps.
He is huge here to match. Downright intimidating in length and girth, uncut with a nice curve toward his belly. He grips himself and gives a series of smooth strokes, the muscles in his abdomen flexing into sharp relief.
“Oh my god,” you mutter.
“No gods here,” he says, kneeling up on the couch. His hands part your thighs, and for a long time he just looks at you, that sensitive, swollen place between your legs. He stares so long that you nearly cover your face, embarrassed by whatever he is thinking. Then he touches you, and when he does, he touches you with surprising reverence. He touches you like you are art.
“Can’t believe you let me ink you,” he mutters, stroking your vulva with his warm palm. His eyes are on the sternum piece now. “Practically let me carve my name into your skin. Anybody around here who sees it will know who did it. They’ll know who touched you.”
“Good,” you breathe.
His sigh is shaky. You’re learning his reactions, his very breaths. That shaky sigh means he’s pleased with you. You’ve said something right.
He reaches down to his jeans on the floor and works a hand into his pocket, pulling free a condom. He hands it to you—for inspection, you realize, though you’ve had so few one night stands (try zero) that you’ve never had the need to inspect a condom before. The package is intact at least. There appears to be an expiration date which you squint at. All looks well. You hand it back to him and he tears it open, rolling it down his considerable length.
Then he goes back to touching you. One hand braces himself against the back of the sofa so he can lean down to kiss you, tasting your mouth deeply. The other hand finds your entrance, circling it with a finger before slipping inside you all the way to the last knuckle. You are wet enough and relaxed enough that he slips in easily.
“Relax…there you go. Let me in,” he says under his breath, working a second finger in beside the first. It is a bit of a stretch—he’s thick everywhere goddamn it—but it’s a good stretch, a much needed one. The third finger has you stiffening, whining at the pinch of pain. He slows his fingers and lets his thumb find your clit, muting the pain with little jolts of pleasure.
“Ghost,” you groan, toes curling against the leather of the couch.
“I think you can take it,” he says, thumb so soft and insistent against that aching pearl of nerves. “But what do you think?”
“Your cock—want it—please—“
“Alright,” he laughs, pulling his fingers free and wiping the wetness on his cock. “No need to beg.”
He notches his cock against your entrance and slips inside you. Both of you inhale together, like on cue. Just the first few inches have you feeling full beyond your comfort zone, but he seems to understand in his silent, all-knowing way. He stills, working that free hand between you both to play with your clit until you’re clenching around him, body trying to pull him deeper. He slips further in and then reaches the end of what your body can take. You feel fucking stuffed, your hands shaking where you have gripped his naked shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
His own breathing is ragged, pecs brushing your nipples with every inhale. The little bursts of pleasure help, until you find that your hips have grown restless, working back and forth as much as his substantial weight will allow when you’re pinned beneath it.
“Stay still,” he mutters into the juncture of your neck. “Stay still or I’ll cum and this is all over.”
“Can’t,” you gasp, his revelation electrifying you. “Have to move, ‘m so full—“
“Fucking hell,” he groans. He pulls out, leaving you feeling gaped. “Roll onto your side.”
He gives you instruction but isn’t shy about reaching out and physically arranging you until you are both spooning, your back to his chest. This time when he enters you, it is more shallow, and easier for him to reach around and play with your clit.
You arch your back, seeking more of him, pressing your breast into his free palm. He plucks at the nipple, teeth nibbling at your throat.
“Want you to cum again,” he says, stilling your movements so that you can’t fuck your self back against him. “Give me one more. Then it’s my turn.”
“Ghost—I can’t—“ you’ve never cum twice before. Not even with your favorite toys have you been able to scrounge together more than one illustrious orgasm. This knowledge and your expectation of his disappointment has you stiffening in his arms.
“If you can’t, then don’t,” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He keeps his fingers soft and insistent against you, and only after a few lengthy moments does he feel confident enough to work his hips against you too. He pulls out too far and his length drags across your labia, the head brushing where his fingers play with your clit.
You give a sighing little moan. His head cocks; you aren’t the only one listening to sighs. Now when he gives those lazy, lackadaisical thrusts, his entire length just strokes the outside of your sex.
“Oh fuck,” you whine, feeling that band in your belly begin pulling tight again.
He hums behind you, a smug sound.
“Not sure I want you to cum now,” he says. “Hold it. I’m thinking it over.”
“Ghost!”
He laughs, honest to God laughs at you. Tears prick your eyes from the sheer need (and a bit from embarrassment) but his hips never cease nor slow their tireless thrusts against you, not even when you grow close enough to beg, close enough to plead.
He loops his arm around your waist and pins you against him when you cum to keep you from rolling right off the couch, your body wracked with shivers and spasms. The warmth of your release washes over you from head to toe, and you are still basking in it when his cock finds your entrance again and enters you.
The position keeps the penetration blissfully shallow (otherwise he might give your cervix a painful beating), but he still reaches new lengths inside you, filling spaces you didn’t know were empty. The shop is eerily quiet except for the sound of his hips snapping against your ass and the frequent breathy sounds his cock punches out of your lungs.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck and lets out a series of sounds that are toe-curling: deep groans and raspy curses, whispered praise and hisses through his teeth. His hand grips your hip tightly, leaving shadows the shape of his fingerprints on your skin as he fucks you.
Sooner than you’d like—but he’d warned you, hadn’t he?—his thrusts grow sloppy, the sounds messy thanks to your wetness as he finds his release and moans it into the skin of your throat.
“Fuck,” he whispers. And again: “Fuck, fuck. You broken?”
“Yes.”
He snorts. Then it turns into that laughter, warm and rumbling against your back. You smile where he can’t see.
-
“Sorry about this,” he says as he ties the condom off and throws it away, naked as the day he was born. You’re still naked too, though much more shy, legs crossed demurely and arms wrapped around yourself.
“Regretting it already?”
“Yes,” he says. Then, when he sees the stricken look on your face, he adds: “Should have at least taken you to dinner first.”
“Dinner?”
“You owe me drinks. I owe you dinner.” He finds his boxers in the darkness and slips back into them. Then, because the expression on your face still hasn’t relaxed, he says: “I don’t regret the sex. Do you?”
You shake your head.
He scoffs a little.
“I mean it,” you insist. You touch your tattoo. “I wanted it…the day you did—this.”
He raises both brows at you, silently calling your bluff.
“I didn’t think you were interested,” you admitted sheepishly.
“I jerked off in the back just from seeing half your tits,” he admits, slipping into his jeans now too. His mouth curls a little at the corner when he sees the way you gape at this news. “I was interested.”
You laugh; you can’t help it. “Dinner, then? Or drinks?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Alright. Get dressed.”
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !! ❞
❝ WHEN YOUR HOT COWORKER WANTS TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD, OF COURSE YOU'LL SAY YES !! ❞
✧ pairing: vampire! choso kamo x f!reader
✧ summary: choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, coworkers to lovers, vampire!choso, vampire bites are an aphrodisiac for both the vampire and the victim, no real dub/con b/c these two are already down bad for the other, mutual pining, scent kink, blood kink, blood sucking from neck / wrist, implied masturbation (m!), oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / yume041624
✧ wc: 7,193
It wasn’t as if you weren’t sure your coworker hates you—
You were sure of it.
He avoided you like the plague whenever the two of you were working on the same project. He always did his best to reply over email, avoid in person meetings, and he always seemed to get sick whenever the two of you had to greet the client together. But you didn’t know why — you hadn’t done anything to offend him, unless he had mistaken your hello for spitting in his face. And that wasn’t even the worst part.
The worst part was that he was exactly your type — fucking hot.
Dark locks tied into a bun with a few strands escaped its binding by the end of the day, his neat nails painted a dark purple that rifled through paperwork, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and lovely, deep eyes that barely had stolen a glance at you but you could spend a millennia exploring—
In summary, you had it bad.
And he didn’t seem to know — or worse, he knew and he hated it. Or you.
But maybe something could change today, you flicked a pen up and down between two fingers as you stole a glance at him across the now empty office, the two of you were stuck working overtime on this project for two days now. But he still had managed to avoid you — but not today when you were stuck in the same conference room sorting through boxes of files that your client insisted must be done today.
You were getting some sleep at a hotel across the street, taking a quick nap and shower before returning, but Choso looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And you didn’t know why.
You glanced up at him between sorting through boxes, and you saw him adjust his collar, loosening his tie, fabric gripped tightly under white knuckles. His head was hunched over, his expression hidden behind the box in front of him, but you saw a hint of red in his eyes. You bit your lip, now you were worried.
Maybe for the wrong reasons.
“Choso, are you okay?”
No, no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay after working overtime for two days straight. He wasn’t okay being stuck in this tiny, dimly fluorescent lit conference room reviewing files that would only prove fruitless and a waste of time for all parties, and what made it worse was you—
No, not you, his canines grew, sharp fangs digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lips,
Blood.
Your blood.
The very thing running through your veins and arteries, pumping through every crevice of your body through your heart — crimson stained your insides as it would your skin if pierced or cut — and it was the very thing that Choso wanted more than anything else.
But no, it couldn’t be anyone else’s — he bit his bottom lip as you stretched, your blouse and hair moving ever so slightly and exposing your neck — it had to be yours.
He pressed his hand against his face, palm covering the bottom half of his face as he forced himself to avert his gaze from you, all too unaware of his thirst — the very same that pulled his muscles taut and made his mouth water at the thought of you. His face was flushed — that much was for sure, as he felt the heat radiate from his face.
And he knew one thing for sure — that you were the one who’s blood would taste like the divine personified. But that’s why he had worked so hard to avoid you, to make sure he didn’t spend any time alone with you, lest his logic and sense fail him at once and he ends up with his fangs pressed to the nape of your neck at once.
No, he had decided he couldn’t do that. There were far too many times he had seen other vampires find partners this way — succumb to the urge — the draw of bloodlust — only for their partner to grow addicted to the pleasure that comes from the bite, and the relationship only fell apart when it was the only thing holding the relationship together. The bite could only do so much, it was an aphrodisiac for both parties, but not a miracle worker — chemistry burns bright and fast, but it could not make love exist if it wasn’t there to begin with.
And his avoidance of you had made any relationship between the two of you hard to happen — especially when every word you spoke sounded sweet and honeyed from those pretty lips. It didn’t help that he was reserved to begin with, but you made all words fall from his mind with only a glance — so what would a conversation do to him — much less a kiss?
“Choso, have you reviewed this one yet?” You ask, grabbing a box from his side, “I finished my half so I thought I’d help you finish yours,”
He shakes his head, “Go ahead. Thank you,” he barely manages through nearly gritted teeth, with barely a glance up — fuck, it didn’t help that you were always so kind, good at your job, and so pretty—
Fuck, the document he held crumpled under his tight grip, he shouldn’t have let it get this bad. Why had he let it get this bad? A few overtime shifts weren’t usually a problem for him — but being stuck with you? It was torture in the highest order — especially since he hadn’t been able to get home to his reserves at home and he had just run dry of the bottles he kept on himself this morning.
He sees you stretch again, this time your neck, and a heat began to creep on as he watched right over the top of the document he read.
Oh, he was so fucked.
You were going to ask him.
You were going to confront him about why he avoids you. You had made up your mind — you were tired of walking on eggshells without a reason. If you were going to be stuck working with him on future projects, especially with this client, he needed to tell you if this was how it was going to be.
And yet, you still sat, rereading the same document over and over, as the two of you were almost done wrapping up your work for the night. Choso was placing the last box he finished up away, a sigh stuck in his throat as he got to his feet.
“I’m going to head home,” he gets to his feet, a sigh on his lips, as he rakes his fingers through his black locks, “do you need help cleaning up?”
“No, I’m fine,” and he’s grabbing his things, as you bite your lip and stare at the shiny laminate of the conference table in front of you — fuck it, “I did have a question,” as he’s walking by in the doorway of the conference room, as your scramble to your feet, reaching for him, your fingers brushing his shoulder by mistake, and he’s tensing, “sorry, I didn’t mean—“
“It’s fine, what’s your question?” His reply is curt but he won’t even turn to face you, his fingers fiddling with the watch on his wrist. You furrow your brow, was it you or was his body shaking?
“I just wanted to ask you if you had some sort of problem—“ and then his bag clattered against the floor, contents spilling out, as he supported himself against the door frame, slumped against it, as his fingers gripped it.
You gasped, a quick brush of your fingers to his shoulder again, “Are you ok? Choso?”
Choso’s head swam — he could barely hear anything — every sound drawn out and garbled, as if he had plunged his head underwater and words were echoing in his ears. He felt his knees buckle under his weight — and he can’t think straight — and for a moment of clarity he realizes why—
Your touch — it was a spark amongst a field of wheat in a dry heat — and it was enough to set his entire body alight. And now—as he barely held himself together, muscles tensed and eyes fluttering — a haze of heat blazing ribbons up his body, and down — right to his cock.
Fuck. He’s swallowing, his muscles taut, as he tugs at his collar, even the brush of his clothes against his skin enough to drive him to the point of insanity. And it doesn’t help that your scent fills his nose, honeyed and cloying and he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing the scarlet gaze would do nothing but elicit a scream.
“Please leave,” he says through gritted teeth, he can imagine the concern written across your expression, “go—“
“I’m not leaving you like this alone,” fuck, you only draw closer, the brush of your fingers against his shoulder enough to have him nearly keening for your touch — he’d nearly do anything you want for one touch, one drop of your blood, but he can’t — he can’t, “do you need water? What do you need?” And you’re helping him sit down on the floor of the conference room, as he clutches his bag to his front, desperate for something put between the two of you.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I needed, just go,” he’s pleading, head falling back against the wall — his mind is hazy, he can barely think about anything else but you — the way your soft lips are pursed in worry, the way your hands are so gentle against his skin and would feel so good gliding across his body, the way when he saw the multitudes contained within your eyes, but he only wanted to live in the warmth of your loving gaze, “I don’t want to hurt you,”
The words come as a confession, a last plea for you to leave, but you seemingly only chuckle, furrowing your brow, “how could you hurt me when you’re more terrified than I am?”
And oh you were so ignorant that you were inches away from a monster — a rabbit in a lion’s den, while you thought of him as a sheep — and his words weren’t enough to convince you, but maybe something else would.
His eyes flutter open to find your own, and he finds his own reflection in your irises — a blood red reflected back in your lovely gaze, as your mouth falls open, brow wrinkled, and breath caught.
“I-I-what?” and he sees your confusion written across your face, your fingers shaking as they brush against his cheek. Your touch sets his senses alight, a soft groan as he leans into your hand, his nose brushes against your wrist, and the thrum of your pulse ringing in his ears. His gaze finds yours — half moonshine with how it’s glazed over, “how?”
And his lips part, when your thumb drags down his cheek, hypnotized and entranced under a spell he didn’t mean to cast. He turns his head so your fingers catch on his lips, parting almost obediently, flashing fangs that has a flicker of confusion swallowed by horror and then consumed by fascination completely.
“Choso, what is—“
“You should go,” he murmurs again, “you can’t give me what you need,”
And you’re speechless, as if you wonder if you’re seeing what you are — but the longer you stare, the quicker it seems to sink in. You swallow.
“So you need my—“ and the sentence is cut off seemingly by the absurdity of the situation, as you mutter to yourself, “this can’t be fucking real,”
“It doesn’t have to be, you can leave right now,” he pants, sweat slipping down his forehead, and you’re still frowning.
“What will happen to you if I leave?” And he can’t think straight enough to lie, your fingers find his neck, to check his temperature but all it does is drive it higher.
“Nothing you need to worry about—“
“Well, I am worried,” you cut him off, squirming in place, “if you just take some of my blood, will that—“
“It’s not just that,” he’s shaking his head, fangs nearly grazing his bottom lip as he sighs, “do you know what your blood will do to me?” His eyes seem to flash, a chill down your spine, “but more importantly worry what it will do to you,”
And you stiffen, the spell waxing and waning as fickle as the moon never was, and that the thing about humans — you could never count on them to be consistent as all other things were. A beast can be predicted — their moves largely the same, caution put before hurt, but man gained consciousness and lost all reliability.
And you were no beast, not like him.
“What would…it do?” Your words are hesitant, carefully chosen, small jumps across stones rather than a leap across a rushing river.
And he lets the raging white water brush against your skin when his hand cups your chin, leaning closer and letting his breath warm your skin, “To reduce the pain, my bite is like an aphrodisiac,” his thumb rubs back and forth across your cheek, “you won’t be able to stop yourself, and since your blood would do the same to me — I wouldn’t be able to help myself either,” his nose brushes against your cheek, as he leans in to whisper in your ear, “you should go.”
But you don’t, silence settles over the two of you, until you choose to break it, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
That’s what you had said — but how did that land you here?
You both walked to your hotel room in silence, his flushed face hidden behind a mask, dead on his feet as he trailed behind you to the room. It was lucky you had a room right across the street from your workplace. You didn’t know what you would have done if you had to stay in the office — the blood would have been hell to scrub off the wood.
And now here you sat after your shower, hair still damp as you toyed with the edge of your fluffy bathrobe, as you chewed on your lip. What had you gotten yourself into? You listened to his shower run, a sigh on your lips — it was fine. It would be fine. You just stick to the plan. You’d let him drink your blood, and he would lock himself in the bathroom — and you both would ride out your…symptoms alone.
Fuck, you bury your face in your hands, what the hell are you doing? And that’s when the water stops — the quiet rustle and shuffling of himself in the bathroom makes your heart leap into your throat, as you sit looking down at the floor.
“Are you okay?” his voice makes you jump even as you expect it, as your head snaps back to look at him. His black hair still wet from his shoulder, long locks clinging to his hair, droplets ran down his bare abs, your eyes following one down right to his happy trail only hidden away by his boxers—
Fuck.
He only continues to towel himself off, before grabbing his undershirt to pull it over his torso, as you choose to avert your eyes then — as if him getting dressed was any more scandalous than his shirtless state, “I am, I’m just a little—“
“You don’t have to,” and your eyes slide back to him, his face was still significantly ragged, dark bags and fatigue clung to body worse than the water did — looking more like a corpse than a bloodsucker, “it’s not too late for you to leave—“
“No I decided I was going to help, so I’m going to,” you say, and his brow forms the same peaks and valleys he had all day — and you were sure his skin would remember the carvings at this rate, “what?”
“Why do you want to help me?” he mumbles, arms crossed, a distinct flush in his cheeks settling that surely wasn’t just from his shower, “I don’t get it, we barely have spoken—“
“We have spoken, our first week,” and his eyes snap to yours, “you may not remember, but you helped me,” and your cheeks burned, squirming in place as you couldn’t quite meet his gaze, “I had messed up on a project, I made a huge mistake on a document, one that could have costed the company a lot of money, and my job,” you murmur, “but you also took responsibility, even though it wasn’t your fault,”
“I didn’t catch the mistake either, so it was my fault too—“ and you shake your head.
“It was mostly mine still,” you offer a small smile, “and so if I can help you like this, I want to,” you shift, swallowing as an awkward silence falls over you both that you break, “why did you want to shower first anyway? You were ready to pass out earlier,”
“I still am,” he admits, and you notice the subtle shake of his hands, “but I figured the shower would make us both feel a little more comfortable, and it helped to…calm me down,” he cleared his throat, and it slowly dawned on you, cheeks burning, “again, are you sure—“
“I’m going to close you off in the bathroom, and we should be able to ride it out — you said you don’t lose control of yourself or become violent,” and he shakes his head, “then it should be fine,” you have him draw closer, his soft steps against the plush carpet fell silent as he sat beside you on the bed. The creak of the bed as he sat on the other side a little awkwardly, “you should be closer,” and he’s nodding, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
“I know, I’m just trying to…prepare,” he gives a shaky sigh, “your scent is—“ he scrubs a hand down his face, “it’s hard for me to be around, especially when we’re so close,”
“My scent?” And his hand covers the bottom half of his face, turned away, as he murmurs.
“Your scent is particularly strong — it’s…enticing enough for me to be distracted all day if I don't keep my distance,” and the pieces sink into place.
“You avoided me at work because of that?” And he nods, as you bite your lip, a small chuckle on your lips, “I thought you hated me,”
And his head snaps to you, blinking, “I don’t hate you far from it—“ he cuts himself off, his fingers grip the edge of the bed, “I’ve seen you in the office — you’re always so considerate, kind, and you always try to help, even people who don’t deserve it—“ he cuts off, “I don’t want to take advantage of your—“
You move closer, his breath hitching as you shrug your robe off your shoulders, leaving only your bra covering your chest, “You do deserve it,” Fuck, he was so close — you could feel the need come off of him in waves, the soft pants of his breath as his eyes fluttered. And you offer your neck to him, brushing your hair away — a silent offer.
You see him bite his lip out of your periphery, but he’s leaning down, warm breath fans across your skin, as he ran a finger down your neck, “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a raspy whisper, “you smell so good,” and you nearly shiver as his lips brush your skin — soft lips against your skin, the barest brush, as if he’s trying to acclimate you to his touch. But it only stoked a fire — the same flame burning even before today, the one that wanted more than a bite at the apple — you wanted him down to his core.
His lips press another kiss to your neck, lingering longer, as he noses the skin there, and you’re biting your lip, the want bubbling into boiling need, “Please—“ you gasp as his fangs graze your neck now, the sharp points lightly dragging across the muscle, right before his fangs sink into your neck.
Your lips part, head nearly lolling back into his warm palm cupping the nape of your neck. Any pain only registers for a split second before disappearing under whitehot pleasure. Your blood turns to heady wine straight from his bite, his muffled moan vibrates against you, sending a wave of heat right between your thighs. Your head spins, all logic melts with as the wildfire only consumes — leaving only want behind.
Coherent thoughts don’t form — instead fractured thoughts spiral into a chant. You want more. You want more of his touch, his body, his words. You want him.
You want him.
And when he’s pulling his fangs from your neck, the sound of his teeth pulled from your skin only rings in your ears for a moment, before blood roaring in your ears replaces it. Burning — it felt as if every part of your body was aching, a deep throbbing with no end in sight. You glance at Choso — and only one cure.
Fuck, his skin looks so lovely when flushed a pretty pink — nearly a scarlet that lit a trail up his neck and across his cheekbones all the way to his ears. The heavy pants that left his lips did little to assuage the desire for him — his defined chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his long jet black locks hanging like a curtain around his gaze.
Your fingers are reaching for him, “Cho—“ and he’s shaking his head, as his muscles tense, as he leans away from you.
“Give me a moment,” so you do — you pull back, and he’s rising to his feet, shaky still, but seemingly for a different reason as he turns and flashes the rising tent in his boxers.
And you press your thighs together, wondering just how big he was — eyes fixed on the growing damp spot on his boxers — how he would shiver when you squee3/ him at the base in your hand, what sounds he would make when you’d flick your tongue against his weeping tip, and how he would moan your name when he sunk into you—
You were so fucked — if your drenched panties were anything to judge by.
“Choso, please—“ and he already knows what you’re asking for between the lines of your plea, and his eyes find yours, his dark gaze catches yours, ensnared in the blackhole that only pulls you under and apart, pinned underneath him.
“It’s just the bite, we can’t,” he’s covering his lips, as he takes steps away from you, towards the bathroom, “we just have to wait until it passes. It won’t take too long—”
“What if it’s not just your bite? Not for me,” you murmur, and the words are being spilled from your lips like honeyed truth with no bitter aftertaste, “it hasn’t been for me,” his brow is furrowing as if he can’t imagine a single person liking him, “I’ve spent the last year working with you and all i know is I wanted nothing more than to be the one you smile at — the same soft way you do when you your little brother visits you at work,”
And he’s swallowing, a deeper blush on his cheeks, “you noticed?”
“I also noticed how you always bring the person you work with their favorite coffee order, the way you try to make others feel valued when the company doesn’t even do it, and how you always do your best — even when it comes at your own expense,” it’s so easy to say these things, but it only makes you long for him more, “let me do more — let me take care of you—“
And he’s covering his mouth with his forearm, “do you know what you’re saying?” you slowly get up from the bed, taking careful steps towards him, “our heads are clouded, we aren’t—“ and he swears under his breath but he doesn’t resist your approach, the bathroom door right behind him, “I don’t want to hurt you—“
“Do you feel the same for me?” and his gaze softens as he meets yours, “because I get the feeling you do — at least you like my scent,” a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, “hopefully not just my scent?”
And you didn’t know it was possible for a vampire to be this pink in the face, but Choso was — and you weren’t sure if it was your words or your closeness, “It’s not just your scent,” he’s mumbling against his arm until he’s pulling it away, to reveal his lips colored a faint scarlet from your blood, “I have feelings for you — I have for a while,”
God, he was fun to tease, “What’s a while?” you’re murmuring, his lips part, flashing his fangs while he does. His eyes avert from your face, only to land on your neck, grazing over the bite mark he left, and you decide to spare him, “but if it’s been a while for you and for me, then—” he’s shivering again, a sigh caught in his throat, muscles tensed as if he was a tiger ready to pounce.
“It’ll be hard to stop once we start — we should think—“ your fingertips brush his cheek, his eyes falling shut at your touch, the want inside you only grew, as you felt him lean into you.
“Who said we’re going to stop?” and he breaks, his hand is sliding around your waist, tugging you closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his words nearly muttered against it.
“Are you sure?”
“I am—” and that’s all he needed.
In a flash you’re pinned on the bed, blinking as you glance at the spinning ceiling fan for a moment before he’s leaning over you.
His eyes are tinted with red and laced with desperation, fangs flashing as his fingers cup your chin and he leans down, “I’ll show you how much I like you, pretty girl.”
“Oh, Cho-so,” your arms are wrapped around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, his hot tongue dragging up the side of your neck, licking at the rivers of blood dripping down, “fuck, please—“
“Can’t waste a single drop, not when you taste so good,” he’s murmuring, nearly hypnotized by your taste — his sticky saliva and your blood mixed together, “fuck, I could kiss every inch of you and it wouldn’t be enough,”
“Please, I need more,” and he’s chuckling, nibbling at the base of your neck, a whine parting your lips that made him nearly bust a nut then and there, “please—“
And his lips find yours in a searing kiss, fangs lightly biting your bottom lip, swallowing your gasps with a smirk, and how is it possible your lips are even sweeter? It was as if you were made of molasses, and he was more than happy to indulge. He parts your lips, dragging a thumb down your kiss bitten lips, your saliva clinging to his skin.
“You know how long I wanted this? Had to touch myself in the shower to stop myself from pinning you the moment we entered the room,” he murmurs, recalling how his fingers had reached for his cock, already nearly covered in pre, his thumb running across his slit was nearly enough to make him burst. But it paled in comparison to the sight of you, disheveled under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, chest rising and falling fast, and your lips nearly begging him to kiss you again and again, “and now I want to take my time, love,” but he doesn’t, instead he bends down again, to nip and suck marks all over your skin, savoring the drops of blood he steals from each one — a constellation dotting your neck and collarbone to remind anyone that you were his. And his fingers find yours, just as he was yours.
And you whimper, as he kisses his way down your arm, sweet pecks dotting down, until he reaches your wrist. He noses it, feeling the rush of your pulse underneath your skin, the sweet scent of your blood clouded his mind, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, as he flashes a gaze upward for your silent permission. You nod.
Your nod was all he needed, before his fangs sinks into your wrist. It was potent — you were potent rather — he had grown used to his normal supply of blood, blood that he had acquired through the proper channels, and though it quenched his thirst, it never satisfied it.
You were more than satisfaction itself — you were ecstasy incarnate, and he was utterly addicted from the moment he had his lips pressed against your lovely skin. Scarlet dripped from the bite and the corners of his mouth — the blood flooded his mouth, an unending pool of need that only grew with each second.
And as he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips, he watched your eyes flutter open, legs spread for him, as he licked his lips clean.
“Such a waste to let even a single drop go,” he drags his tongue up the rivulets of blood that ran down your wrist, and a whimper escapes your lips, and his lips curl, “what do you want, love? Tell me,”
And you’re biting your lip, averting your gaze, but he’s guiding it back to his, “Choso, please, I need you to touch me,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, “please—“
He pulls your hand away, and kisses your lips again in a bruising kiss, before he’s pressing sweet kisses down your body, easing the straps of your bra down. He kisses the swell of your breasts, one after the other, making you squirm in place.
“Pretty girl,” he’s murmuring, his lips kissing each one of your erect nipples, caught in a thick haze of lust, “so good for me,” and he’s lighting a trail of kisses down your body, and he’s resisting the urge to mark up every inch of you — no, there would be time for that later, his eyes flicking up to meet your half lidded gaze, “gonna be good for me?” His skillful fingers slide under the elastic of your panties, snapping the fabric against you, making you gasp, “either way, I might just eat you up,”
A shaky chuckle escapes your lips, “Promise?” And he chuckles, as he’s spreading your lips, leaning down to press a hot kiss to your inner thigh.
“Be careful what you wish for,” his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before running over the mark with his tongue, before his fingers are running over your drenched panties, and it takes everything in him not to sink his fangs into your plush thigh, but no — he’s carefully tugging down your underwear down your legs — he had to stay focused.
His breath catches at the sight of your dripping cunt and swollen clit, glistening with your juices that told him just how much you wanted this — and it was enough to nearly have him cumming in his boxers. And then the sweet scent of your precum becomes too much for him—
And he can’t wait.
His tongue flicks against your clit, making a squeal escape your lips, fingers finding purchase in the long strands. It’s too good — judging by the way your hips nearly rut into his lips, while your own moans his name. But it was even better for him, as he groans against your pussy, licking the pre sticking to his lips.
“How do you taste so good? Sweetest thing I’ve tasted, as good as every part of you,”
You gasp when his fingers spread your folds, “Cho—“ and he’s circling a tip of one of his lithe fingers around your entrance teasingly.
He hums lightly, “Can’t decide whether I want to use my fingers or my mouth, love,” he murmurs in contemplation, whilst his tongue teases your needy clit, “what do you think, baby?”
“I need you—anything—“ and he’s licking a stripe up your sweet pussy, before he’s sinking a finger into your fluttering walls, “Choso—fuck—“ and the wet squelch of your cunt and the feel of your fluttering walls around his digit makes his dick twitch in his boxers, “s’good,”
And you’re melting into his touch, your juices soaking his fingers and wrist as he fucks you with his finger, knuckle deep in your warm walls, rubbing at your clit with his thumb.
And you’re so sensitive, every move of his finger has your walls squeezing him tight, his other hand sneaking into his boxers to palm at his erection, “Cho, I need more—“ and he’s adding a second finger to the first, fucking you deep until he finds that spot — and that’s enough for you to fall apart.
You cum, back arching as you do, stars bursting behind closed eyes, as you moan his name. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around his fingers, thighs tensing around his hand. You come down from your high, chest nearly heaving from your pants, as he eases his fingers from your pussy. A soft sigh leaving your throat as your cunt flutters around nothing.
Your eyes flutter open to see Choso licking his fingers clean — still sticky with your release — fangs flashing with the part of his lips, and you shiver at the sight. He’s leaning back down, pressing kisses to your thighs, before his tongue drags up your leaking pussy, making you gasp.
“Please, Choso—fuck—“ and he’s smirking, glancing up with lips glossy with your release, placing a chaste kiss to your puffy clit, your eyes falling to his hand palming his boxers, “let me touch you—“
“Not yet, baby,” his tongue circles your slit, circles growing faster before sinking into your insides, nose bumping against your swollen clit, as he laps at your messy slit, “not until I’ve swallows every drop of you,” his fangs pinch at your clit.
It’s already too much for you — your second orgasm sneaks up on you — a coil wound tight as he slurps and sucks at your cunt, all too eager to taste every last drop. And oh, he does — until he uses his thumb to rub at your clit, and it’s too much—
You squirt all over his face, soaking his face and fingers with your release, his lips more than eager to lap up every drop of it. Even as he pulls away, your cum is dripping down his chin, his dark eyes lidded as he looks up at you.
And he can’t wait anymore—he needs to sink his dick into you. He’s licking his chin clean, pussydrunk on your cum, as he smashes lips to yours. Your moan is stifled as you taste yourself on his lips, tongue sneaking into your mouth as you part them for him. You hear the shift of the sheets as he tugs his boxers down, pulling his lips away only to finish kicking them off.
But that’s not what you were looking at.
Fuck, he was huge — his engorged tip was a deep red, large pearly beads of precum dripping down, while the rest of him was flushed a lovely pink. The veins that went along his length made gou tempted to trace them, mapping out his cock until you remembered every inch. You were hypnotized as your fingers reached for him, thumb flicking against his slit, before grasping at his base.
He gasps, head lolling back, as you spread the pre along his length, beginning to pump him, “Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he’s covering his lips, cheeks flushed to match his cock, “please, I won’t last—“ and he nearly blows his load when your mouth sucks at the tip, before sliding his dick past your lips. your tongue tracing along the veins.
And a whine leaves his throat, as you start to bob along his length, spit and precum dripping down the corners of your mouth as you messily sucked at him. His hips jerk, as his fingers thread into your hair, tip brushing against his throat, it’s almost too much.
He’s easing you off his cock with a tug of your hair, your lips parting with a pop, strings of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. And god, he wants nothing more then to pump his cock and let him spill all over your face.
But no, no, he rather spill inside you.
In an instant he’s gotten you onto your back, the head of his cock brushing against your dripping cunt. He’s dragging the head of his dick against your dripping folds teasingly, making you squirm.
“Please,” you’re whining, drawing a soft chuckle from him, as he’s lining himself up, groaning in unison as his tip bumps against your slit, “fuck, Choso, I need you—“
And he obliges, sinking into you inch by inch, a grunt from his mouth, “Already trying to swallow me whole, love? No need for that — I’m already giving it to you,” the delicious stretch of your warm walls pull him in deeper, stretching as he works himself inside your cunt, “so tight, baby,” and he’s finally bottoming out — cock twitching against your sweet cunt.
He’s reaching places you didn’t think were possible, his
You were far too tempting, “Please, Cho, please move—“ your words cut off with a gasp as his lips against your neck again, fangs piercing your skin as he bites you, right as he starts to slowly fuck into you.
White hot pleasure rips up your spine — the bite and the way his cock fucks you enough for you to already cum around him, your mouth parted in moans, as your walls clamp down on him. He’s sucking greedily at your blood, and he wasn’t sure what was better, the way your sweet blood tasted against his tongue, or the way your release squelched around his dick, as he fucked it. And he barely registers that his cock is growing larger against your spasming pussy, but you sure do, as you moan his name.
“S’big, Choso, too big,” you’re whining, as his hand presses against your lower half only to feel a slight bulge, and he only makes him want to thrust harder, too far gone to think — only one thought circling the drain of his pin sized perspective — that he wanted to fill you up,
“Cho-so, please—“ and he doesn’t know what you’re asking him, to slow down or to go faster, as he pulls his fangs from you. And he could cum just looking at you — your forehead slick with sweat, while scarlet rivulets of your blood ran down the side of your neck, eyes blown out in such lust — and everything about your body begging him to fuck you more.
“S’pretty for me, baby,” as he fucks you through your orgasm, another building in its place, as he watches his cock piston in and out of your fluttering cunt. And it feels too fucking good. And he’s leaning back down to lick up the blood staining your neck, as he gives a particular hard thrust that has you seeing stars, and he knows you’re close—and he knows he won’t last much longer — not with the way your vice grip cunt is squeezing around him.
But you’re confirming it with your moans, filling his ears along with the lewd noises of skin slapping together, “I’m close—I’m—“ and he’s grunting in agreement, as his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, only to pull a breath away to ask:
“Where?” And the flutter of your walls that pulls him impossibly deeper tells him the answer, but you reply with words as well.
“Inside, please, need to feel you fill me—“ you cum then and there, words cut off with a moan of his name, and he’s fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts stutter as he grows close, before groaning and pressing another kiss to your lips, biting your bottom lip to draw blood, as he spills inside you, painting your insides with his hot release, fucking it inside you as his hips slow.
He’s pulling away from your lips, pulling himself from inside you, a soft gasp leaving your lips, as he moans himself when he watches his seed mixed with your cum slip from your pussy.
He’s caressing you, pressing sweet kisses to your face and neck, your quiet pants filling his ears like a metronome.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter open, lips curling slightly as you nod, a sigh on your lips.
“I’m more than okay,” you press your lips to his again, a sweet kiss that grows more insistent as your tongue drags against the seam of his lips, before you hear a wet squelch, and your eyes open darting down to only find him stroking his cock, “Choso, are you—“
“Mm, the effect of your blood hasn’t quite subsided for me,” he murmurs, “but I think I can take care of it with—“ and he’s flipped onto his back, eyes blinking up as you, sitting on top of him.
And he sees the blatant want in your gaze, as you begin to lower yourself onto his dick, a smile pulling at your lips, as your lust pulled him under and his cock inside you.
“I told you I’d take care of you, Choso,” and you offer your neck to him again, dragging your wrist across his face, “so let me.”
“You’ll be working with Choso again on this project,” you have to bite back your smile, when you nod, “the two of you did a good job on the last one. Thank you for the overtime you put in. It did not go unnoticed,”
“No problem, sir, anything for the job,” and your supervisor smiles, as you turn to leave, “I’m sure Choso would say the same,”
“The two of you make a good team. I may pair you two together more often. Is that okay? I’ll have to run it by Choso, of course,” and you nod, hand already on the door knob.
“I’m sure he would be more than okay with that, sir.”
“Ah, baby, please just one bite?” Choso’s got you pressed up against the conference room door, “spending all day at work with you makes me so needy,” he mumbles against your skin, as he’s already unbuttoning your button up, the shirt already creased with he’s tugging it free from your slacks, “please,”
“Cho, you had one this morning, it’s barely lunchtime, and you’re this desperate—” and he’s grinding his tenting erection against your clothed cunt, and your hand barely is able to make it in time to stifle your moan with your fingers, “fuck, fine, one bite, but don’t make a mess, this is a white blouse, babe—”
He’s already tugging down your shirt, wrapping his arms around his middle, as his red tinted gaze meets yours in the shaded drawn window of the conference door. And now you were sure — your coworker loved you, even when you thought he didn’t.
“Don’t worry, love, I won’t spill a drop.”
✧ a/n: this fic was weirdly hard to write. i was very stuck for a while. i couldn't figure out how to write it even though the idea struck me. but i hope you all enjoy <3 thank you for @laneysmusings and @gaylatteart for betaing and being the best moral support <3
✧ taglist: @yourwaifuhatesyou, @cira273, @kakashineedstotouchgrass, @whereismysane, @kaedeolgy, @keirangoldenwatch, @indieotterxoxo, @mua-for-now, @b3llair3, @evieslook, @shervinss, @saltymeow77, @svt-backup, @dazailover1900, @kentocalls, @yamaguccitadashi, @simply-a-s1mp, @rita-ritarita, @gorepain, @jupisloveletterz, @ice-echo26, @lemonpoppy-seed, @turtletaubwrites, @complexivelovely, @tiramatsumu, @strangehuman101, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @adrenova, @chosoitos, @stonecoldsensitive, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunamatic, @maetziniscool, @muichirosbestie, @monstrousbuu, @spider-fan72, @nakariabnrb, @petalshxwer, @talkativetranscendant, @fairyxgothic, @jupisloveletterz, @crystalkat6747, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @hotcocokiss, @angstigone, @sunnykento, @dantaku
#sab [mlist]#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo fanfiction#choso smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#choso x reader#choso x you#choso kamo x you#choso kamo fluff#vampire choso#jjk x you#jjk choxo x reader#kamo choso x reader#kamo choso smut
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Pornstar!Logan NSFW
This work is inspired by @bpmiranda and their own pornstar!Logan smut, which you can find here. Please go and check it out, it's so yummy and i hope I am doing this idea justice.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader
Summary: Up until now, filming a porn video was only something you joked about. But after your job failed you, this simple 'joke' brought you to a whole new carreer path that you would love to explore further, especially if your co-worker was this handsome man that ruined your pussy for everyone else.
Wordcount: 2.3k -ish
Warnings/tags: pornstar!Logan, pornstar!reader, porn with plot, first porn recording, filmed sex, best friends dad porn, squirting, unprotected penis in vagina sex, pussy pronouns, implied blowjob, basically sex with a stranger, dirty talk, doggy style, Logan is older than reader, cumming on pussy, perverted director, mention of threesome (F/F/M), english isn't my first languange (lmk if i missed something!)
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It had always been a joke. All of this - you just joked about it. But now as you stood in front of this building, the filming location, that's when you truly knew that it was in fact not a joke anymore.
You were about to cast in your first professional porn video.
For years you had been telling your friends, if your degree didn't work out, you'd start selling nsfw art. If your job applications would keep getting rejected, you would become a stripper. It was always something you and your friends could laugh about greatly, but it was never really taken serious in the end. That was about to change.
Throughout the last months, you had taken this career path more and more into your field of interest. Your hated your job, the salary, the people there and your boss. You needed a quick change. So you read about becoming a porn actress, watched interviews with stars of this industry, stating how they got into it, what they had to do, how they coped with everything at the start and much more. You felt ready, but you also didn't really, not when you stood in front of this building and knew that in just an hour, you would be having a stranger pounding his cock into your pussy while everyone around watched.
You took a deep breath as you entered and upon stating your name at the reception desk, you were brought to the second floor where you were greeted by the director.
"Ah, there you are! You're (Y/N), right?" he said and shook your hand with a firm grip. He was the manager of all of this. He had been in this industry for years and sounded very nice from the very start. You felt comfortable as you stood in front of him. You nodded your head. "Yeah, that's me. I hope I am not too late?" you asked nervously, biting your lip. You really didn't need to leave a bad expression right on the first day.
He laughed and shook his head "No, don't worry. You're just in time to meet the guy you're gonna work with today. You're gonna like him." he said and winked at you. You had already heard a bit about the man that would, to put it as is, fuck you today. They praised him highly, told you that you should be happy to have the opportunity with him because he gets so many requests from porn actresses every day.
Richie shoved you through a crowd of working people to a cozy break corner for the actors. There he stood. And wow. He already wore his outfit for the upcoming video. It was a plain black shirt, a thick belt and rugged jeans, but damn. He looked good.
Upon seeing you, a smirk spread across his lips and he stood up, hands in his pockets. "That's Mr. Howlett. Your lover for today" Richie chuckled as he introduced you to him.
"Call me Logan, sweets. Nice to meet you, heard a lot about ya" Logan said and his voice alone made your pussy throb. You both shook hands and you told him your name as well. It would be a lie if you said you weren't anxious. Your heart was beating out of your throat. You were intimidated by your work partners looks and the fact that he was a lot more experienced in this field than you. He looked very charming and handsome, picture perfect like some famous hollywood actor. And you were just, well, you. You felt like you couldn't compete with that in the slightest.
The time you had to speak to him, get to know him at least a little bit before his cock was in your mouth, was limited, because you were pulled to different stations by different people left and right, getting you into costume, fixing your make-up and hair, even checking if you had shaved down there properly. It was all so much at once, but Logan was always watching over you, weirdly enough, reassuring you. Truth be told, he saw himself when he looked at you. He was pretty confident by nature, but when he first started out in this business, he was overwhelmed and unsure at first as well. So he felt deep sympathy with you, even if you didn't know that.
Now you stood at the set with your two co-stars, Logan and some other woman who you didn't know the name of because she was so minor to the scene. She was only there to play your best friend from college. Your best friend with a smoking hot single father.
Your nerves were killing you as you stood in the pre-build bedroom with your co-star. You took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. You knew the script, you knew the movements and looks, so there wasn't really anything that could go wrong. Right? "Okay, cameras, lights, action!" Richie yelled over the set. Now there was no going back.
You flopped down on your friends bed with a sigh. "This assigment is killing me. We've been working on it for days now and we aren't getting anywhere" you scoffed. Your on screen friend agreed with you, voicing her anger towards the professor as well.
You started acting like you were starting to unpack your bag when you heard a car engine. Your co-star groaned. "Perfect, now my dad's here. He normally works longer than that" she said. You had never met her dad, he was always at work when you were over. "Lindsay, I'm home!" Logan called before he stepped into the room, stopping in his tracks as he saw you. The camera zoomed in on your slightly shocked face, taking in your agape mouth and how your eyes clouded over. You crossed your leg over the other as warmth spread through your core.
Logan smirked at you, leaning against the doorframe. "So, you are the girl my daughter has been doing that assigment with, I assume? Nice to meet you, I'm her old man." he spoke in his deep voice, extending a warm, strong hand out for you to shake, a knowing look being shared between you as he eyed you up and down, pratically undressing you with his gaze only.
The director yelled cut. You let out a nervous sigh. This worked out way better than you had imagined, but that was just the easy part of this whole thing.
Though, the second Logan pushed the tip of his cock into your sopping pussy with a relieved smile on his lips that wasn't part of the script, you couldn't care less about your insecurities or worries. The words you were supposed to say just came naturally with the way he fucked you open. "Such a greedy little cunt, she is practically sucking me in" he groaned, one hand pushing your head into the pillows of his daughters bed.
"You really needed this, huh? Needed a big fucking cock to pound your pussy. The boys in college just don't cut it, am I right?" He groaned, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around his throbbing shaft. How could a cock feel this good? Logan could ask you the same thing - how could a fucking pussy be this tight and warm and just sopping wet?
Logan watched your face being squished against the pillows, slurring your words while you drooled. He smirked. You were made for this, the camera was eating you up like this. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about using this video when he was at home to get off. He leaned down to your ear, his plush lips kissing and biting at the shell before he whispered something only for you to hear "What a natural you are. Gotta have to request you as my partner more often from now on, don't I?" he was whispering in such a hot, breathless voice, it almost made you cum before you even should. He could feel that. And oh boy did it feed his ego.
"Does it turn you on? Being fucked on your best friends bed? By her dad?" Logan rumbled in character, kneading your tits. It took you a while to get a hold of your thoughts and the script, so Logan used that silence to keep whispering in your ear how fucking pretty your tits were. "Y-yes! I...I love it" you slurred, your voice raw from the moans you couldn't hold back for the life of you.
Logan hummed pleased. "Oh I bet you do, baby. Already so cockdrunk for me"
Your pussy felt so good with the way he was dragging his cock in and out, reaching places inside you you didn't knew existed. It was funny to you - you were supposed to fake moan and falsely contort your face in pleasure - but you didn't have to do any of that. If anything, you needed to shut up. You were moaning so loud and so prettily for Logan, it was almost excessive. You just couldn't help yourself. Every time you tried to shut your mouth, Logan would notice and pound into your sweet spot. He couldn't have you denying him of your cute sounds.
Not long and the scene ended with you squirting all over his cock and the sheets. That wasn't initially meant to happen, but with the way Logan was fucking you, you lost control as your orgasm hit. Logan tried to mask his surprise by going off script, continuing to circle your clit "Yes, such a good girl. Keep making a mess for me, baby" he groaned into your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, the overstimulation too much as you felt him cumming over your pussy. He hadn't expected you squirting, but it served perfectly to make him cum like he hadn't in a while.
Richie yelled cut again and Logan let go of your hips, making you fall flat onto the drenched sheets, completely boneless. You could hear faint applause and a warm hand on your back. As Richie approached the bed, Logan was quick to bring you his fluffy robe and wrapped it around you aftwr helping your shaken form to sit up, shielding you from prying eyes. The crew was highly professional for the most part, but there were some creeps shamelessly goggling at the actresses, especially newcomers. Sometimes Richie was one of them...
So Logan had a protective hand around your back, sprawled over your waist to keep you pressed into his side while you regained your composure. You were tired and worn out, but in a very very good way. Your core buzzed with warmth and so did the rest of your body. Without realising, you leaned your head onto Logans shoulders, softly closing your eyes for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat.
"Jesus Christ, you two were really going at it, huh?" Richie grinned and clapped his hands together. "I am deeply impressed with you, rookie. The camera loved you. Didn't even have to correct you at all. Can't believe you haven't done this before" the middle aged man chuckled and tried to discreetly pear down your cleavage to which Logan covered your upper body a bit more, staring Richie down. You didn't feel all too safe now, especially in your slight dazed state. But Logan was there and somehow being able to nuzzle into him for protection eased your mind greatly. "You two can go and take a break. I have Mirinda, Mandy and Josh for the next sesh. But after that, I'd like to see you both in action again. Maybe with another woman as well, how would you like that?"
Logan declined for you with a slight bite to his voice, excusing you and himself after he had wrapped a towel around his hips and brought you to his dressing room. Richie wasn't a bad man. But he was far from being appropriate at times. It happened rarely and mostly only to actresses who had been in this industry for years, but they knew how to treat directors like him for rude staring not to happen. But you were still so young and inexperienced with everything, so anxious and nervous. Logan wanted to protect that. Protect you. The industry was tough and he didn't want you to break under all of this like he did in the beginning himself.
"Thank you for uhm...getting me out of there" you mumbled as you began to dress yourself again with the clothes you had arrived in. You chuckled to yourself as Logan turned around when you put on your bra and underwear as if he hadn't just conpletely seen you bare and ruined you for every other man.
He scoffed. "Not for that. It was the least I could do. Sometimes he gets a bit creepy, but he his decent. He doesn't do more than stare, fortunately. Still, I'm sorry you had to endure that on your first day. But that's, sadly, how it is" he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and you shamelessly watched his muscles dip and contract from his movements.
You buttoned up your blouse and shrugged. "I expected it, honestly. But you were my knight in shining armor, or lack there of-" you laughed and Logan couldn't help but chuckle alongside you. "- so it wasn’t that bad. At least the sex was good"
Logan smirked. "It was?" he asked with a cocky undertone. He knew that it was, but hearing it from you directly made his chest flutter. Not that he would ever admit that. You nodded with a hum, slightly chewing on your bottom lip.
"I have to say the same. You have a great pussy" he blurts out, making both of you laugh. "There is more where that came from, lover boy" it was very easy to be comfortable around Logan and it made you feel a little less lost. It made you feel like you had a guiding hand and you were so grateful that he was there. It wasn’t his job to be your caretaker, he wasn't getting paid to tell you how to do things or protect you from backhanded nasty comments from filming crew members. But you were glad he instantly took you under his wing like this.
You couldn't wait to shoot with him again
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I had so much fun writing this! Let me hear your thoughts, do you want a part two?
And don't be scared, there is also going to be more sub!Logan soon and a few fluff drabbles as well. Stay tuned!
#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#x men#hugh jackman#wolverine x reader#x reader#logan howlett#logan wolverine#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#mcu#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine#smut#deadpool and wolverine
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blue raspberry flavored
soobin x fem!reader
synopsis: he’s so cute when he asks, he’s even cuter when he doesn’t
warnings: 🔞!!! breeding kink, baby trapper, dubcon/manipulation, nipple/breast play, use of teeth, marking, no protection, creampie, talk of pregnancy, soobin calls reader bunny a few times prob forgot some sorry
wc: 1.5k
an: don't know how this one will go over but hope you guys like it feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]
this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here [dumdum m.list]
Soobin was never really forgetful of anything. He never forgot your birthday, missed an anniversary, messed up on your coffee order, he never even had to write down what he needed when he went grocery shopping. But bringing a condom always seemed to slip his mind.
At first it was easy to write off in the beginning of your relationship, every time the two of you got closer to having sex and not just messy make outs every pouty ‘its okay ill just pull out’ sounded more and more appealing. But you bought a box of condoms for your apartment and didn't realize the way his jaw clicked at the sight of them.
Soon after soobin was suddenly into pda. Purposefully teasing you out in public, hand slipping up your thigh under the table at a friends house, pulling you into heady kisses out at events, pushing you into bathroom stalls to try and undress you. You didn't make the connection until later that he was avoiding taking you home. ‘I just can't wait i need you right now,’
He knew exactly what to say for you to fold, slowly chipping away at the idea that the two of you even needed protection at all. It was so easy for you to remember when in your own bed, the nightstand right there. But in the back of the car with his lips all over you, hands kneading your thighs, pushing your knees apart; you let so much slide. Mumblings for him to pull out lost between moans. Where was he supposed to cum in the car anyways? He’d hate to ruin the interior or your pretty skirt.
In the beginning it wasn't so bad, soobin could restrain himself. If you two didn't use a condom he would make sure to pull out and if you did use one he was easy to comply. But it only took one time and it was an accident, a real accident where he didn't pull out fast enough. It was in the mix of his fucked out apology that he realized he wasnt sorry at all, not when he was watching the way your abused cunt was pushing out his cum and all he could really think about was going right back in for more.
post nut he was a bit ashamed but as soon as he thought about it for long enough he had his hand down his pants begging in an empty room to get you pregnant. And when you're ovulating it's only worse. Not only does he know it would be so easy to knock you up but it's like you're beckoning him to do it. Your hands squeezing your boobs, pushing up your bra while you're watching movies together. “Ugh im so sore,” the pout on your lips instantly makes him hard. His imagination taking over thinking about just how big they would get if he did get you pregnant.
And when you wear that tiny little tank top he is insatiable. Nipples peeking through the thin fabric as you lay against the pillows on the bed. You didn't even notice that soobin is paying no attention to the tv, his eyes watching the way your chest rises and falls. Adjusting in his seat to not make it too obvious he was already leaking in his sweatpants. Only it does the exact opposite, your eyes drawn to the bulge outlined in the gray fabric.
“Need help there?” it's the slight invitation he needs to roll over on top of you, lips working down your throat, hips rutting against yours.
“Please bunny, i need you,” he begs as you run your fingers through his hair pushing the strands behind his ears. Pleading brown eyes working on you instantly, he was always so desperate to have you and he knew it always made him get what he wanted.
He tugs down your tank top far enough for your boobs to spill out, hands reaching up to cup them both, thumbs sliding over your skin as he groans. “Look at your pretty nipples,” he squeezes his hands, pushing them together to watch the way your cleavage deepens.
You whine softly, “gentle i'm still tender,” the reminder only adding to his want, mouth coming down to suck on your nipple, your moan going straight to his aching cock.
Kneading the handfuls he has of your breasts, your back arches, lips popping off obscenely from one nipple only to capture the next. He's rough as he massages, your nails scratching along his scalp, his moans reverberating through your chest as he swirls his tongue over the hard bud.
He's humping you like you don't have layers of clothes separating you two, every slow drag of his hips pressing his hardness right against your clit, his teeth softly biting at your nipple tugging to watch how you react. Soobin knows that getting you off at least once before actually fucking you led to your inhibitions being weakned enough to forget about the condom all together. His hand slipped down between you two, pushing past your waistband to rub on your clit.
Lips coated in his spit he starts sucking marks along your chest, watching the way your head rolls back, fingers sliding through your slick as your hips buck up into his hand. He knows your body well enough to see the first orgasm coming, relishing in the way you tremble against him. With no time to let you ride out your high he's pulling down your shorts and panties, kicking off his sweats using all your wetness to lube up his cock.
But even in your haze you reach out beside you fumbling for the drawer to the nightstand pulling out the little shiny packet. You don't even see the disappointment on his face as you rip open the packet helping to slide the condom on him.
And he wants to be good, truly, only when he slowly pushes in he cant think about anything else except fucking you hard enough the condom breaks, neither of you knowing until its too late, until all his cum is spilling out of you. It’s that thought alone that makes him pull all the way out, his fingers slipping along the condom as he tugs it off. “What-”
“It's okay,” he mutters, tossing the condom to the pile of your clothes on the floor. “I need to feel all of you please,” and he tries to kiss away the worry on your mouth, and you shake your head.
“No you need another one we have extra in the nightstand,” but he's already prodding your entrance, tip slipping in as he begs, "I'll just pull out I promise, please, please,"
You don't even get to respond before his hips slam into yours, fully seating himself inside you, promptly shutting up anything else you could say. Even if after the two of you were done you were upset it's not like you would leave him would you? Not if he got you pregnant, the two of you were ready, and he'd take such good care of you. “Fuck,” his drawn out moan pressed right into your neck as he bullies his cock into you, “you feel amazing bunny,”
You're clinging to him, moans mixing with the obscene wet sounds coming from between you two. “Soobin s-slow down,” but you're not sure you want him to, not when he's hitting just the perfect spot inside of you, pressed so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
“No,” he pants pulling you closer, “im going to stuff you full of my fucking cum, we will stay here all night if we have to,” your clenching gummy walls aiding him on. “Don't you want my baby?”
You can't even think straight let alone answer his question, his long fingers moving to work on your clit, “you'd be so pretty full of me, my cum, my baby, everyone would know youre all mine,”
The room is full of your desperate moans, your legs wrapping around him as if you could pull him any closer. “You like that idea huh?”
“Y-yes,” you're practically crying, tears welling up in your eyes, “i want it, please,”
That alone makes soobins balls tighten, cock jerking inside you before he spills the biggest load he's ever had inside you. He presses his hips against yours making sure you're flush together as you cum, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper milking him dry of all he has. He takes your hand in his lowering it to press over your pelvis, pressing it down enough to make you moan, “i don't think once will do it,” deep slow thrusts pushing his cum further in making you dizzy, “but you did such a good job im sure you can handle the rest,"
a very special thank you to @aduh0308 and @chyuuiung for beta/proof reading this for me ily you're the best
🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572
@tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553
@cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5
@yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae
#soobin x reader#soobin smut#soobin txt#txt soobin#choi soobin#choi soobin x reader#txt x reader#txt smut#yeonjun#beomgyu#taehyun#hueningkai#kpop smut#kinktober
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kinktober day 12 - cockwarming dick grayson x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, praise/degradation
"Ah, ah, ah. No moving, baby. That was the deal, remember?" your boyfriend coos from behind you.
Your velvety walls flutter around him, all your other muscles going taut with frustration. Tilting your head back, a whimper echoes from you.
Right now, he was really living up to his name.
"Pleaseeeee, Dick," you whine. A pout forms on your lips even though he wouldn't be able to see it from this angle.
"No," he laughs and pats your ass, "You said this would be enough for you. That you didn't need strenuous activity to feel good."
He was laying in bed, as the doctor (Alfred) had ordered. A pile of plush pillows pile behind him, keeping his bruised face elevated. More cuts and scrapes littered his chest and abs and mark up those beautiful muscles with remnants of the pain he'd endured. You sat on his lap facing away from him, his cock buried inside you.
Last week, he had a pretty rough night. On patrol, some guys got the jump on him, had some weapons he'd never encountered or something like that. It was hard to understand the story with the way he'd mumbled it out when he came home barely conscious. The state he was in scared the life out of you. You called Alfred in tears, sobbing into the phone about how you thought Dick was gonna die on the floor of your kitchen.
As it turned out, he was fine. Totally fine by now, which was why you felt comfortable rubbing up on him and snaking your hand down south to the waistband of his loose sweatpants. It had been over a week since Alfred told him to get some rest, and he had no real injuries. He just loved to tease you, so he insisted sex was still beyond the limitations of his current physical capabilities.
He made you BEG to even sit here with him inside you. You hoped that would convince him to take it easy on you for the rest of this, but clearly, you'd overestimated your boyfriend's compassion.
"Why? You don't even have to move," you plead.
You don't have to see his face to know the gleam of amusement his eyes hold and the smirk that spreads over his lips.
"Sure, sure. Cause you never get tired halfway through being on top and start whining for me to take over," he mocks, "I know that'd be the next thing you ask for."
"I won't," you defend, "Please just let me move... I need it."
You look over your shoulder now and catch sight of the stupid look you'd envisioned in your head. Those pretty blue eyes gaze up at you, his ego clear in each cerulean fleck. His hands below knead the soft muscles of your ass. They dig into the flesh and rub at your thighs too. The touches send tingles straight to the pit of your belly, more arousal leaking from you in response.
"I don't know... It's bad enough you're not letting me rest properly, but now this? Seems like you're asking for a lot," he goads.
Anguish plumes in your chest. You nearly topple forward and smoosh your face into the blankets, the urge to kick and pound your fists on the bed insurmountable. Instead, your hands clasp around his meaty thighs. You squeeze as if that could give you the will to remain motionless. If you moved before he gave you permission, you weren't sure you'd see another orgasm this year.
"Dick, come on," you beg, head hanging, "Why do you hate me?"
That gets a hearty laugh out of him. His palms smooth up your sides to hold your waist.
"Don't try to guilt trip me, babe. You're not very good at it," he says. The pads of his fingertips massage your curves in tiny strokes. "You can wait a little longer."
"You've already made me wait so long. It hurts," you plead. If guilt wouldn't work, maybe sympathy will.
"Oh, does it? I think that's just your pride, sweetheart. You're acting so pathetic for me right now," he teases.
You didn't know what to try next. More broken cries tumble from your lips. In truth, waiting didn't hurt, but it was growing uncomfortable. The slick between your legs was sticky, and you wanted to get away from it by bouncing up and down. His length had been sitting inside you for so long it felt like a word you'd said too many times. The only way to forget about it would be to fuck yourself silly on top of him.
But he stays true to his word. He makes you wait. You sit on top of him for you don't even know how long. Occasionally, he shifts his hips, acting as if he just needs to get comfortable; the motion strikes one of your pleasure spots every time though.
You bite your lip, trying to not lose it. If this continued at this rate, you'd be in tears soon, which you really wanted to avoid as they would only make him more merciless.
Regardless of your wishes though, you can feel them starting to bloom in your eyes. Frustration burns like fire in your lungs. You turn your head to look at him again, wanting to try one more time to reason before you fully break down.
That plan goes out the window though when you see this man on his phone. He lounges there, scrolling through whatever without a care in the world.
"Dick!" you cry, a couple tears spilling over your water line.
His eyes flit up to your face just as your arm swings back to swat him. He catches your wrist, amusement pulling at his lips.
"Swinging at me when I'm wounded?" he mocks.
He softens the smallest bit when he sees the tears, bringing his hand up to swipe them away with his thumb. You sniffle at the gesture. Your lip wobbles with the desire to unleash more humiliating noises.
"What're the tears for, pretty girl? You really wanna move that bad?" he croons, dragging the bow of his index finger down your jawline.
You nod, eyes casting down in shame.
Knowing laughter bubbles up from his lips. His finger tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"Let me hear you ask nicely one more time," he says.
You almost crumble on top of him right then, but you can't lose it when you're so close. With a deep inhale, you suck it up and bat your eyes a few times.
"Please?"
He grins at you and taps your hip. "Turn around for me and then go ahead."
Eager as can be, you clamber around and situate yourself so that you're facing him. Your legs quiver. It felt unusual to move after being full and seated for a while. When you're settled, plush thighs pressed against his sculpted sides, you plant your hands on his chest.
You don't waste time before rising up and sinking back down. A strangled moan falls from your lips at the relief. Some of the tension that had webbed up in the pit of your belly begins to loosen as you bounce.
His hands land on your hips, guiding your movements into a steady rhythm. You can tell he's enjoying it too from how he sighs and the way his jaw clenches.
"That's it. Worth the wait?" he asks.
"Mhm," you whimper.
Your ass smacks against his pelvis over and over. The sound of skin on skin fills the bedroom along with your combined grunting and moaning. You roll your hips, getting him as deep as possible. Your spine arches in tandem with your head falling back.
He takes advantage of the view you're giving him, one of his hands rising to grope at your breast. His fingers cradle the mound as the rest of you continues rutting on top of him. He flicks your nipple with his thumb, tearing more mewls from your lips with the bursts of sensation.
"Look at you, going dumb already. You're that needy for me?" he mocks, giving your stiffened bud a little pinch.
You yelp and nod, not bothering to defend yourself.
Your noises increase in volume as you continue to ride. Breathing likens into panting while shudders overcome your body. All of you convulses with each jump of your hips. It's getting harder to keep the pace, but you don't want to admit that. You don't want to prove him right.
It doesn't matter if you want that though because he can tell. He can see your motions getting jerkier. He feels the way your walls tighten around him with abandon.
To try and help you a little, he digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up. Happy moans echo from you, your lips widening into a smile. He can't help but match the expression. This was his favorite sight in the world, his pretty girl blissed out. Nothing on your mind but him.
Without waiting for you to say the word, he boosts you up and flips you onto your back on the mattress. He springs to his feet beside the bed. Pulling you by your hips, your pelvises meet at the edge, and he takes over thrusting.
His fingers press into your inner thighs as he maintains his grip. He plows into you faster than you had been going on top. Leaning forward, he bends you in half. Your thighs press against your chest. His body heat oozes all over you.
This position lets him slide deeper inside you than before. Each rock of his hips nudges his tip against a spot that makes you cry out. You would be seeing stars if not for the fact that your eyes are rolling back.
"So fucking greedy," he croons, "Always wanting more than you can take."
You whine in protest, hips weakly squirming under the weight of him. Blinking yourself back into focus, you try to conjure words to argue that you could take it. That he's the one who flipped you over.
But all you can muster is a pouty "You're so mean to me."
He laughs in your face before smacking a kiss on your quivering frown. "You love it. Being nice doesn't ever get you so wet," he mocks.
You can't help the way your cunt clenches around him at that, sucking him in further. He hisses in response and presses down on your legs harder. He's as far in you as can be now. Every thrust fills you up just how you like.
"Mhm, there you go. Nice and tight for me, baby," he teases. One of his arms wraps around your leg to thumb at your clit. You squeal at the fiery sensation and writhe against the blankets so much you may get friction burn.
He chuckles and continues speaking. "I'm only mean cause I have to be. If I let you have it your way, I don't think you'd ever get anything done. You're such a little slut. You want my cock all. the. time," he says, punctuating the last three words with particularly brutal thrusts.
Crying out, you nod. You just agree with what he's saying, not really taking in a word of it. As long as he didn't stop, you were content.
He continues slamming himself against you. The bed creaks from his rapid pace.
Your mouth hangs open at this point. Unfiltered sounds come out while he grits his teeth above you. His thumb keeps swirling over your sensitive little bundle of nerves all the while, dragging you closer to the edge.
"Dick!" you wail.
The hand on your clit leaves and clamps over your mouth instead. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his breaths fanning over your face.
"If you get us a noise complaint, you're gonna get used to just sitting on my cock," he says, "I won't go easy on you next time. You can cry all you want to, and it won't change a thing."
Your eyes flutter with lust. He could be so annoying, but fuck, you loved it. You knew Dick wasn't one for idle threats either. He'd have you sit on his lap all full and fidgety for hours if he wanted.
The image is all you need to spur you to the finish line. Your hips buck up against his, shaking violently as they seek out more pleasure.
He feels the way you tighten and release, massaging his shaft and beckoning him to do the same. A few thrusts later he gives in to the temptation. He drains himself inside you. Rope after rope of hot, sticky cum floods into your cunt. His head drops against your neck, silky black locks damp with sweat against your skin.
Both of you finish out with a few more lazy movements. In the afterglow of your passion, he lingers on top of you for a few more moments. His body remains dead weight, melted against your own.
When he finally finds the will to move, he kisses a trail from your shoulder up to your lips. The tender exchange makes the feel of him pulling out more bearable. Maybe he was right, maybe you are a little greedy. You'd just had him for all that time, but you still didn't want it to be over.
Either way, he flops down next to you. The teasing is gone from his eyes for now. His pupils hold a genuine look of adoration similar to the feeling in your chest. It's only a brief eclipse though because his mocking returns as he leans in to nip at your cheek.
"I think you cured me, babe. I'm feeling much better now," he says with his usual cocky smile.
#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson smut#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc smut#nightwing x reader#nightwing smut#nightwing x you
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Bad Boy - Good Toy
Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.
There is now a Part 02
Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear
Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.
Where are you, brat? I want to leave.
He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.
It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.
He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.
He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.
Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.
"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"
For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.
"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.
"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."
"What did you just call me?"
But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.
You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,
"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."
A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.
He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?
The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,
"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"
"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"
You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.
He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.
And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.
He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.
He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.
No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."
Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.
Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.
He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.
"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."
You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.
"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."
Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.
But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.
He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.
"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."
His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.
You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.
"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."
He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.
You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.
"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."
You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.
Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.
Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.
Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.
He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.
You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.
You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.
He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,
"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"
"Who doesn't know that?"
You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,
"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"
You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,
"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."
"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"
"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."
Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.
His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.
You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.
Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,
"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"
"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."
Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.
He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.
Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.
He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,
"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."
He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,
"And what will my reward be?"
"I'll allow you to cum."
Allow him to cum?
Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.
"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."
"I told you to shut up, brat."
"Then shut me up with your pussy."
Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!
He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.
He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.
Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,
"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."
Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.
He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,
"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."
Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!
You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.
"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"
A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.
It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,
"You said you would make me cum."
"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."
"Fuck..."
It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.
You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.
Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.
He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.
You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.
And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.
You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.
You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.
"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."
You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.
You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.
And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.
His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.
You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.
Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.
He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.
The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,
"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."
You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.
It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.
FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)
There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.
Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!
HERE IS PART 02
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#tw piss#tw dark content
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YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me!
“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle.
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72 types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer.
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types.
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.”
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop.
—
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in.
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself.
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.”
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles.
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening.
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.”
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car.
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car.
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.”
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop.
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...”
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.”
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.
“Y/n!” You mom gasps.
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better.
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad.
“Sweetheart...”
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.”
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket.
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?”
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport.
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior.
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.”
—
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.”
“Kay, thanks.” You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72.
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’ Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies.
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’
—
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents.
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different.
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile.
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces. You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile. Suguru has different plans.
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster. Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t.
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you.
“What?” You ask.
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.”
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it.
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say.
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare.
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost.
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling.
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—”
“I don’t care.”
“Please—”
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him.
—
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72.
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened.
‘Oh wow.’
‘I know.’
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring.
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care.
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box.
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.”
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh.
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight.
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.”
‘And what is that?’
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight.
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please...
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’
You nod.
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand.
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day...
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt.
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder.
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming.
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out.
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water.
“N-no!”
—
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress.
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously.
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie.
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad.
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back.
Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks.
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him.
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.
“No babydoll—”
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed.
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.” You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him.
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother.
“I know it’s a lot of information.”
“It is.”
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—”
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.
“Suguru—”
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face.
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.” You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair.
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you.
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.”
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.”
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders.
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks.
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips.
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man.
“You okay babydoll?”
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.”
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.”
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt.
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch.
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.” he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark.
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you.
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy.
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.
“T-that was—”
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.”
“Same.” You smile before wincing.
“What’s wrong babydoll.”
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble.
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly.
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.” He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto smut#jujutsu geto#geto scenarios#geto x y/n#geto x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!
(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT
NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)
MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)
TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)
HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)
JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)
LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)
BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)
COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)
IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)
FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)
TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)
PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)
RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)
I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)
VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)
10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)
RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)
CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)
#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#heeseung fluff#heeseung angst#heeseung smut#lee heeseung#heeseung fic#heeseung fic recs#heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines#heeseung smau#heeseung scenarios#enhypen fic recs#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen recs#park jongseong#jay park#sim jaeyun#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura riki#enhypen fic#kpop fic recs#fic recs#kpop
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dark protector
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k
🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)
Prologue
It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.
You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.
After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.
“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”
Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.
“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”
You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.
Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck.
You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.
Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.
An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.
You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’
Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further.
“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”
You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.
However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf - is a pretty common tattoo.
“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?”
This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.
You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.
When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.
The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.
You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”
“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”
You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.
You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.
There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters.
When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head.
One:
“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.
“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”
“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”
“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”
“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”
“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.
The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.
It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.
There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”
“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”
“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”
“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams.
“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.
“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.
“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?”
You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.
“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.
“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”
“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs.
“So is this tattoo consult for you?”
Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.”
“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”
“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos.
“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”
Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.
“That’s me,” your best friend beams.
“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.
He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks.
Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into.
You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.
You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.
Two:
You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.
You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard.
The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.
“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.
It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.
While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”
“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”
Must have grazed him… with a knife?
“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.
“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.
“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.
The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”
He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”
You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders.
“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.
Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.
It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.
“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.
“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk.
The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.
You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”
“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.
“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”
“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”
“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.
“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”
Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”
Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.
“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”
“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.
“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”
You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.
“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.
“Not drinking?”
“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you.
Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”
“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.
“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.
You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.
“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.
“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses.
“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition.
Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion.
“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.
“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.
You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.
The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.
“Who was that?!” one asks.
“He was hot!” another friend notes.
“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”
“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”
“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”
“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”
“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.
“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”
“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.
“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”
“What?!”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.
“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.
“Yeah.”
You sit back, thinking about it.
Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.
You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.
Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence.
Three:
You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.
You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.
Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”
“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”
You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”
“Yeah, you.”
“Hi, Seungcheol.”
“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”
“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”
“I just didn’t,” he says simply.
“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.
“One sec.”
You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.
You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”
“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.
“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.
Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.
“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”
The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”
Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response.
“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”
“Oh… are you at work now?”
“Uh huh.”
“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.
“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”
“You should just go home after work.”
“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.
Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”
“See you in an hour.”
You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”
“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”
Four:
You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.
Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car.
“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”
“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.
You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.
“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.
“Uh huh, is that a problem?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”
Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.
You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.
“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”
“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.
You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.
Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.
“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.”
“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.
“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.
“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze.
“What about me?” he counters.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”
“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder.
Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.
“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”
“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.
“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.
“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.
“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”
This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.
“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”
“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”
And just like that, he’s closing up again.
You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound.
“All done,” you announce.
Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”
“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”
So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.
It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.
You just want to figure him out.
“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia.
“No.”
“Are you scared?”
“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.
“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”
You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways.
“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”
He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.
“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.
Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on.
You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat.
Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”
You nod.
He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about?
You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-
You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.
You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.
You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.
You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.
“How was it?” he asks.
“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.
Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”
You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.
“You good?”
“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”
You nod. “Fuck that guy.”
Five:
You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.
“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”
There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.
You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.
It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table.
You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.
The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get.
You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate.
Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.
Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?
Are you ready for a new relationship?
You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-
Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.
But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?
Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?
The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.
Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.
Six:
“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.
“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”
“Is that good or bad?”
You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”
“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”
You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”
Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”
Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday.
“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.
You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.
Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.
“Doing okay.”
“And your shoulder?”
“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”
“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.
“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.
Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.
“We could do that,” you respond.
“Sounds good, when are you free?”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“How do you feel about eight o’clock?”
“That works,” you nod.
“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”
You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”
“It’s a date. See you then.”
“Bye, Cheol.”
Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.”
“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.
“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”
“That’s a good sign,” you insist.
“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”
Seven:
You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.
He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”
You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”
“Me too.”
Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.
“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”
You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.
“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.
“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.
You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?”
“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”
“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”
“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”
“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”
You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?”
Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”
“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”
“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”
“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.”
“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”
You nod. “A hundred percent.”
“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.
“I thought so.”
“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”
It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.
It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.
Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.
Eight:
Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head.
He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.
Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.
He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker.
It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.
“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.
“Just thinking.”
“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s.
Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways.
“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”
Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.
“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.
“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder.
As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”
He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”
Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”
“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”
“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”
He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”
“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”
He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person.
“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”
“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell.
“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”
“I will, bye, Cheol.”
Nine:
You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.
You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“It’s been a while,” your ex states.
You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.
You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.
“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic.
“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”
Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.
Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”
“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.
“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”
He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.
“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”
You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex.
“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”
It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I-”
Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.
“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-
“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”
“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”
“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”
Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.
“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”
She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.
Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”
You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”
“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug.
You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.
“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.
“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.
“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.
You nod, pointing to your forearm.
“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.
“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”
You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.
“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.
Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”
“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.
“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”
Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-
“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”
Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.
“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.
“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.
“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”
“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.
“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.
“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”
“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”
You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”
You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.
As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.
Ten:
“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”
“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.
“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes.
“Are you sure?”
“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.
“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.
“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.
In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”
Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.
“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.
“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you.
You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.
“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.
You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.
He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.
You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up.
You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently.
The bike roars to life and you take off.
It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky.
You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time.
You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.
He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.
“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.
You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.
Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.”
“Thank you.”
You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.
Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.
You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”
“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you.
“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”
“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.”
You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table.
“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.
“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.
It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal-
It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”
You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.
Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.
With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.
It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss.
Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap.
You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides.
After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily.
“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.
He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”
“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.
“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”
You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a Leo,” you say again.
“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”
“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything.
You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.
���A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.
“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.
“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”
“And they said Leo,” he breathes.
You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”
“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.
“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”
“She really said that?” you ask.
“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”
Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.
Even so, something about this feels so right.
You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”
“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.
“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.
Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.
You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.
Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.
With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”
“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.”
“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.
You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”
He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”
“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.
Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.
You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.
You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.
You want this.
You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm.
Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”
He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”
Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”
“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”
He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”
You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”
“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”
Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.
“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.
“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.
“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”
Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.
He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.
He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.
“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.
You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue.
“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”
You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.
“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.
When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.
You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.
“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”
You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.
“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation.
“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”
You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”
His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”
You grin, returning to your task.
Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be.
“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”
“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.
“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.
Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.
The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.
“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.
You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.
“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.
“Yeah?”
“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”
“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.
Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.
But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.
Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.
Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.
He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.
The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.
“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”
Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.
You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps.
You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.
Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.
With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.
Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”
“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.
“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly.
“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.
Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.
“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.
“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.
Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.
He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”
Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.
He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.
No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation.
“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.
He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.
You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.
“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”
He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.
“Just like that,” you whimper.
He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.
Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.
You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.
Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.
Sex should always be like this, you realize.
There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial.
Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.
“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.
His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.
Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean.
“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.
“More than anything,” you smile.
A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.
You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.
You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.
You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.
You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.
Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.”
“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.
“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.
You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.
The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.
Nothing has ever felt this right.
Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.
His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.
Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.
“Cheol-”
“Yes, baby?” he asks.
“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”
“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”
Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.
Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.
His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.
“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”
It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts.
Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.
When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.
“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.
“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.
Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.
You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.
“Fuck-” you moan.
“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”
“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder.
“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.
“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”
You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.
“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”
“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.
His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.
“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”
For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,
“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”
You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”
He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-
“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”
You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.
Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.
You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.
Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.
His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.
You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.
Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”
You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-
“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears.
You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here
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🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.
Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.
While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.
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"PATHETIC"
SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)
GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff
WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degradation, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, praise, let me know if there are any more!
PART 2 (aftercare)
NOT PROOF READ (YET)
____
Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.
But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?
With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.
Yet it's so exhilarating.
"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.
With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.
He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.
"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.
"I just wanted to hangout,"
Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.
"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.
"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.
He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.
"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"
You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.
His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.
"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.
"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.
"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.
"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.
"How lovely,"
With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.
"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.
"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.
"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."
What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..
Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.
"Alastor, no- I can't.."
"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.
"You wanted this.."
You don't want this anymore.
Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.
He loves that in you, in his own way.
You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-
Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?
"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..
Shows you to think more of the radio demon.
In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.
He leans down and growls condescendingly.
"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.
"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.
"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.
You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.
"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"
You see red, a weird loving anger.
"I fucking HATE you.."
Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.
"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.
With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.
"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.
You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.
"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.
"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.
"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.
"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"
You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.
"Good fawn, how good,"
With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.
"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.
"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"
Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.
"Will they, my dear..?"
You gulp, shrinking in his arms.
"No, Alastor,"
He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.
"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"
#proship#senseichaos#antishippers dni#senseichaosdrabbles#proship fanfiction#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader fluff#alastor oneshot#alastor#alastor x reader angst
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feelings for you | choi soobin
summary: after catching his roommate and his girlfriend making out, Choi Soobin’s life has been in an awkward standstill where he can’t decide if he should still be upset or move on. never one for confrontation, he still works with his ex girlfriend whose suddenly interested in him again all because he’s shown interest in another girl—his new roommate.
➣genre/au: roommate!soobin x roommate!y/n [she/her. female anatomy]
➣19.3k words
warnings: smut. kinda fluff. soobin is a barista. college grads. oc is soobin’s new roommate. one instant of fake dating. soobin is a whiny drunk. soobin’s cheating ex tries to get him back. soobin and oc friends. cute soobin but he’s a switch. dom soobin in the bedroom. soobin doesn’t like confrontation until the end. oral sèx [f receiving, in the kitchen 🤭] protected sèx. missionary. riding. soobin is subby post-sex. he has an unexplored boob kink. big soobin. jealous soobin but only slightly
When it comes to drama, you want no part of it. You keep your circle small and try not to involve yourself with things that don’t concern you but it’s been hard now that you’ve moved in with your new roommate. Originally, you thought it would be less drama to have a guy you didn’t know as a roommate, aside from the obvious worries Soobin had seemed perfect.
He was quiet and a bit shy but he seemed to have good intentions. You’ve heard him through the thin walls and he laughs when he watches something funny or talks on the phone but he’s not obnoxiously loud. He cleans up after himself and gives you your space so this first week has been good.
You’ve recently started rooming together when you answered his ad in search of a roommate and you’re starting to understand why he was looking for one in the first place.
“So she just dumped you?” You asked, unable to help yourself from being nosy. This is the first time since your first meeting that you’re sharing a conversation with him and it’s about his past relationship—evidently to thank for giving you a room for cheap.
“Basically,” Soobin said with a shrug as he stared at the television where his Nintendo Switch was connected. He was currently playing some Jujutsu Kaisen game that managed to grab your attention when you had come out of your cave for a bowl of cereal.
“That’s crazy,” you mumbled to yourself, turning away from him to wash your dishes in the sink.
Apparently, his last roommate moved out very suddenly considering he slept with Soobin’s girlfriend and things just didn’t work out.
“It’s whatever,” Soobin said, so hyper focused on his game, and saying whatever was on his mind with no attention at all, “Just sucks because I still have to work with her.”
“Wait!” You dropped what you were doing, rushing over to where he was and standing in front of the tv, “So you’re saying you still have to see your cheating ex girlfriend who slept with your roommate at work?”
“Yeah,” Soobin said, making you shake your head in disbelief. Still thinking about his sheer bad luck, you finally left him to his game and retreated to your bedroom to wallow in self pity like usual.
It was all too much to talk about for Soobin. His relationship only lasted about six months but he still can’t believe she slept with his roommate. He thought they all had become good friends but to find out she’s secretly going to his roommate’s bedroom while he’s at work. She would come over and stay while he would leave to work and while he thought she was waiting for him to get home, she’s letting his roommate stick it to her! The audacity, honestly, to do that in his home is ridiculous but thankfully his name was the one on the lease and he got to kick the guy out.
At first it was strange to have a girl move in with him considering he’s only ever roomed with guys and he was supposed to be in his ‘I Hate Woman’ era but you’ve turned out to be better than he expected. Of course it’s only been a few days but you both seem to be hyper aware of the fact that this is something new for the both of you. At least he won’t have to worry about you sleeping with his next girlfriend… or does he?
For another hour or so, Soobin played his game, completely engrossed that not even the pounding on the door for two solid minutes broke him from his trance. It wasn’t until you stormed out of your bedroom once again and headed right to the front door did he realize the person at the door was here for him.
You looked at the guy in front of you, a bit stunned to speak at how attractive he was and for a moment the two of you just stood there looking stupefied. The guy took a step back into the hallway and read the number on the wall which was sure enough his best friend’s apartment.
“What are you doing here?” Soobin asked, suddenly appearing behind you with a hand on the door above your head. Once you acknowledged that this stranger was here for your roommate you quietly made your leave, unaware of the new pair of eyes trailing after you.
“There you go, I didn’t know you had it in you to bounce back so fast,” Yeonjun said, looking to your closed door, “And with a baddie at that!”
“What are you talking about? She’s my new roommate,” Soobin said letting his best friend follow him to his bedroom so the two of them wouldn’t be in the living room and possibly make you uncomfortable. “And what are you doing here?”
“I came to cheer you up, I know its been a rough two weeks and I didn’t want you to think I left you at your lowest,” Yeonjun said, flopping himself down on the beanbag in the corner of Soobin’s room. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a couple bottles of Soju. Soobin released a sigh as he checked the time and read how late it was, “First of all it’s a weekday, second I’m not at my lowest.”
“Right… that’s the Denial stage of grief, don’t worry friend, you don’t have to lie to me, I know you,” Yeonjun said as he got up once again and went to the door, “Remember when you lost Odi? You cried for three weeks straight—“
“That is different! Odi was the real love of my life so don’t compare this to the heartbreak I felt for my beloved child!” Soobin yelled but Yeonjun just brushed him off to leave the kitchen and find glasses—and also hopefully run into you again.
Once he was back in the room, Soobin was sniffing Odi’s old blanket for comfort.
“So are you saying your roommate is up for grabs because she really is hot,” Yeonjun asked, beginning to pour two shot glasses with peach flavored Soju. Soobin shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know and considering what happened with my last roommate, I’m not really into inner circle mixing with my friends and roommate.”
“Fair enough.”
Fresh out of school, you’ve been lucky enough to find a small job at the lowest ranking possible while still being in the world of fashion. There certainly are better things you could be doing besides running errands for your boss but as a new college grad with no experience, its not like you could expect more in the fashion world. It honestly wasn’t too bad and your boss wasn’t one of those horrendous bosses that paged their employee at all hours of the day and the pay was good enough to keep a roof over your head so there wasn’t much to complain about.
You surprisingly do have quite a bit of freedom and don’t always feel tied to your work so you’re thankful that you have time to visit your friends. Now that none of you are in school its become harder to fit time to see each other in your schedules but today you got lucky to finish a shoot early and you were able to get off sooner than usual.
Seeing Soobin’s friend the other night worked as a reminder to tell you you’re not a loser and actually have friends to visit too and that’s how you found yourself sitting next to your friend while he played Overwatch at a public game room.
Your computer screen had gone back to sleep mode after you got tired of making random SIMs characters and resorted to spinning in the rolling chair next to him. It was alright for a while but when it had been almost a full hour of this, you couldn’t take it anymore, “When you asked to hang out, I thought we would actually be doing something fun.”
“This is fun, what are you talking about?” Beomgyu asked, eyes locked on the screen making you roll your eyes. You’ve been friends since your freshman year of college so his need to pay more attention to his games than you isn’t a surprise but it is annoying—even though your roommate was kind of the same.
When you didn’t say anything, Beomgyu tried harder, “So hows the new living situation?”
“It’s alright, he seems cool and it’s cheap,” You told him, still spinning absentmindedly.
Beomgyu nodded, “Is he a weirdo? Like do I have to worry about you popping up on a missing persons ad?”
“I hope not, but let me share my location with you just in case,” you joked making him chuckle, “But honestly, he seems like a good guy. It was kind of weird at first since it all seemed rushed so i was obviously worried but he explained why and its all good now”
“Spill the tea, why was he in a hurry to find a roommate?” Beomgyu asked, visibly more interested in your story than before, but still gaming.
“His girlfriend slept with his roommate when he was at work,” You said making Beomgyu gasp dramatically.
“Whoa, what a bitch,” he said, “I would’ve fought my roommate.”
“And you would’ve lost too,” you said to him making him kick your chair causing it to roll back a bit. Your laughter began to slowly die down when you felt the vibrations of your ringing cellphone. You checked the caller, surprised to see the man in question’s name on your screen.
“Hello?”
“Have I ever told you you’re the best roommate I’ve ever had?” Immediately you were taken back by the brightness in his voice. He was obviously being dramatic and you could practically hear the favor he’s going to ask.
“Well it’s not like I have a lot of competition, right?” You asked, hearing the line go silent for a moment making you wonder if you shouldn’t have said that.
Soobin rolled his eyes but wasn’t mad, “Right… So can you do me a favor? I have to meet up with some friends right after work but my phone is about to die and I don’t have a charger. Is there any way you can bring one to my work?”
You thought about it for a moment, “Nobody has one you can borrow?”
“Yes, but there’s no way I’m asking her for it,” he said with an annoyed sigh. He’s already asked everyone and they’ve all pointed him to his ex girlfriend, “Please?”
You looked back at Beomgyu who started playing his game again, forgetting you were even beside him and with a shrug Soobin couldn’t see, you said, “I guess, I’ll be there in a bit.”
Soobin’s attempt to thank you was cut short when you hung up abruptly but he was too relieved to care and tucked his phone back into his pocket.
“Want me to ask Jia if you could borrow it?” His coworker asked when Soobin got back to the counter. He shook his head, “I’ve got someone bringing one.”
He couldn’t believe he forgot his charger and didn’t realize it until he was halfway through his shift with only 15% battery. When he went to the break room in search of his charger, he nearly lost his shit when he couldn’t find it.
At first he hoped his work bestie, Taehyun, would have one but he didn’t and the only other person to ask was his ex. Obviously he wasn’t going to ask her and although he could try and run home after his shift, unless he were to find an outlet at the place he was going with his friends, his phone would be dead anyway.
Soobin’s last resort was to see if there was any way you could just bring it to him. He left it on the entrance table and must have forgot it when he was putting his shoes on and ran out. He was pleasantly surprised that you said yes and it was such a huge relief that he wouldn’t have to ask Jia.
When you walked into the coffee shop you were immediately surrounded by warmth and the smell of espresso beans. It was the first time you ever stepped foot into this cafè but it was calm and aesthetically pleasing, somewhere you can talk with friends or do some work. You followed the scent to the front register where a girl with blonde highlights stood with a polite smile on her face.
With wandering eyes toward the menu above her head, you asked, “Is Soobin here?”
You didn’t notice how that smile fell as she looked at you a little closer and before she could even respond, your roommate came out from behind some door holding a bag of hot to-go cups.
Once Soobin saw you, his heart unintentionally leapt in relief and he quickly set the bag down to go to you. A shy smile spread across his lips, very happy you actually came, “You brought it?”
“Yes,” you said, moving to the side of the counter and closer to where he was, beginning to look through your bag for it. Soobin had his hands on the counter waiting patiently as you two stood a few feet away from where his ex was. “But it wasn’t by the door, you left it on the bed.”
You felt a little awkward to go to his room but he left the door open and you could see it on the bed. Now, you could’ve easily just leant him yours so you wouldn’t invade his privacy but you weren’t going to risk him forgetting it.
“I did?” Soobin asked with a somewhat cute tilt of his head, “Oops, I swear I left it by the door, thanks though.”
When you handed it to him, your hands accidentally touched but neither one of you thought much about it, unaware of the people behind the counter watching the interaction.
“Do you want a drink?” Soobin asked, the least he could do is give you a free drink in thanks plus when he came out he saw you eyeing the menu.
“Sure,” you looked at the menu once again before just saying, “Surprise me.”
Soobin nodded with a smile as he got to making it while you looked down at the pastries in the dessert case.
By the time he was done and gave you the drink, you were ready to leave but before you could, he said, “I won’t be home till late.”
He just meant to give you a heads up that way you knew you had the apartment to yourself and didn’t think about how it would sound to the others.
You left with a goodbye and thanks for the drink and he was left behind to deal with his ex for another three hours.
“So who was that?” Taehyun asked, suddenly popping up beside him, catching him off guard and making him scream. Soobin clutched his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart as he looked at his friend with a dumb expression, “Who?”
Taehyun couldn’t even pretend to be amused and asked again, “The person who you were talking to like ten seconds ago.”
“Oh! That’s Y/n, she’s my new roommate,” Soobin said casually with a shrug of his shoulders.
“That’s it? I thought you had moved on already, I was impressed,” Taehyun said with a chuckle as Soobin rinsed out the froth pitcher, “I think Jia got a little worried there for a second.”
Soobin stopped as he tried to process what his friend was saying, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not gonna lie it kind of looked like the two of you had something going on at first and Jia asked me if I knew her,” Taehyun told him confidently. Jia left on her break without telling either one of them but now they’re comfortably talking without her around.
“It shouldn’t matter to her anyway,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he moved past Taehyun to help the customer in line. Why does it matter to Jia who he talks to and why does she feel the need to ask Taehyun what he knows? She cheated on him. She betrayed his trust so heavily that he doubts she ever truly cared about him so why is she acting interested or concerned?
Does it bother her to see him talking to someone despite everything she’s done?
It was a couple days later when he realized your short visit to his work which should have been in the past, wasn’t.
Like the other night, he was stuck working with Jia and he had been counting every minute that passed until the end of his shift since it started. For hours they worked and talked around each other but never intercepted even when he could feel her eyes on him.
When they closed the cafè and Soobin was ready to run home and escape her presence, she decided to speak up, “Soobin?”
For a second he debated ignoring her so he could walk straight to the bus stop and not worry about seeing her for the rest of the night. It was hard to always act unaffected as if she didn’t completely disintegrate his entire confidence and practically shove new insecurities, he never wanted to show, down his throat.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to her wordlessly, waiting to see what she had to say.
“I…” she bit her lip trying to figure out how to word her thoughts, “I… um, I just wanted to know how you were doing.”
He resisted the urge to scoff as he answered questioning, “I’m good?”
For the past few weeks he’s worked hard to act like he didn't catch Jia and his roommate kissing on his couch so why was she wanting to know now of all times?
As much as he wanted to go home, part of him wanted to see what was up. Jia met his eyes, still taken back to see his harsh gaze which was a huge contrast than the gentle stare she had grown used to in the last six months.
“That’s good,” Jia cleared her throat awkwardly, “Are you, b-by chance seeing anyone?”
The obvious look of disbelief on Soobin’s face had her rushing to explain, “I mean… the person who came to visit you the other night. Is she, yknow, are you seeing her?”
“You mean Y/n?” Soobin asked with a tilt of his head. Why was she asking about you?
Jia stood there silently trying to figure out what to say next. What was her point? What was she trying to find out by asking him that? Had she expected him to still be mourning their relationship? Does she have a right to feel worried that he’s moved on so quickly after what she did?
Before she could even try to word a shitty excuse for why she asked in the first place, Soobin had already stopped paying attention to her when he got a text.
you: ordered too much pizza
you: I’ll die if I eat more
you: pls take some
For some reason your sequence of texts brought a slight smile on his face. He put a thumbs up on the message and looked at Jia, “Night.”
He left her standing there alone as he ran home to his roommate who was slowly beginning to like more and more. He doesn’t even mean it romantically because clearly now’s not the best time for him but he likes you as a roommate and possible friend? You’ve slowly begun to help each other out and you don’t completely avoid shared spaces so you’ve been interacting a little more. He wouldn’t call you a friend just yet but you’re an easy person to live with and he doesn’t have that many people around him so it’s nice talking to you either way.
The two of you text here and there but never about anything important, usually you ask how to fix the hot water and he sends you anime reels he thinks you might enjoy. If he’s up for it, he’ll ask if you want any pastries he’s supposed to throw out.
It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.
It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.
By the time Soobin got home, you had moved from the dining room to the couch where you engrossed yourself into some animated movie laying on your side. You barely raised your head to acknowledge him but he smiled anyway as he headed to the kitchen, “Thanks for sharing.”
“No problem, I overestimated how much I could eat in one setting,” You mumbled in a tired, raspy tone, “How was work?”
Soobin didn’t bother heating up his slice, or even get a plate, and he took a big bite out of the cold pizza, walked out the kitchen to talk, “It was alright, kinda slow aside from some teens who wouldn’t stop giggling at me.”
“Question, was that girl from the other night your ex or someone else?” You asked sitting up a bit when you noticed he was trying to sit down.
“Yeah that’s her, Jin, she also asked about you tonight,” Soobin said seeing it as a joke, “Taehyun said she seemed jealous when I was talking to you.”
Your brows furrowed with confusion, “Did you tell her I was your roommate?”
He shook his head, taking a moment to chew before saying, “No, I didn’t see why it mattered.”
“True, that’s so weird,” You released a sigh, resting your elbow on the arm rest and leaning your head on your hand, “Wow, no offense but your ex girlfriend is a bitch.”
He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face as you said that but he couldn’t disagree—he just would’ve used kinder words. It was kind of funny though and for some reason hearing you say that made him feel better. His other friends who know about it don’t really ask and they don’t explicitly tell him to his face how they felt about his former girlfriend. It just feels nice to have someone listen and be on his side, it made him want to open up more.
“Sorry, I really don’t want to seem mean, I just think its kind of bullshit for her to act jealous because you’re talking to someone. Like, why does she care who I am or how you know me when she cheated on you,” You said, unable to help yourself from speaking your mind, “Even if I was someone you’re talking to, why is she concerned about it? Did she expect you to just always be hung on her despite what she did?”
Soobin had to think about that for a second. That’s the same thing he had originally thought too but he tried to ignore it because it seemed wrong. He thought that maybe he was reading into it too much and Jia wasn’t actually jealous but now that you’re saying it too, he can’t help but wonder. She also talked to him tonight and even at work when they didn’t speak, she was looking at him constantly. She even tried helping him once but he just blew her off to do it on his own. It’s like tonight she was trying to remind him she was still around and that confused him.
“Do you think that’s true though?” He asked. You shrugged trying not to seem too invested but it was too late. Soobin is a good guy and now that you’ve met the girl, you just can’t wrap your mind around what she did. Cheating is already a huge betrayal but to do it with someone Soobin knew and lived with? To do it in the apartment, Soobin paid for? That’s the lowest of the low.
“I honestly do.”
What you said stayed on his mind for days. It didn’t help that Jia was trying to talk to him at work and last night she looked at his instagram story despite the fact they unfollowed each other. He just doesn’t get it. What did she want with him now?
When he came into work today, there was his favorite drink in his locker that he knew was from Jia because Taehyun had told her. Thankfully he wasn’t working with her now but Taehyun had filled him in. Apparently, she came in with drinks and he saw her putting it in Soobin’s locker.
“I don’t get her,” Soobin said with a huff of frustration, “Why does she keep doing these things?”
“Honestly, she probably regrets fucking up and wants to get on your good side again,” Taehyun said as he made a hot matcha latte for a customer that Soobin was ringing up.
“But why?”
“What if she wants to get you back?” Taehyun asked as he finished the drink and handed it to the customer. He turned back to Soobin, realization hitting him like a truck and he gasped, “Oh my god. She probably thinks you’ve moved on already and wants to get you back! That’s really bold of her to think you’d fall for it, right?”
“Right. You don’t think she is though, right? Why would she cheat on me just to try and get back with me?” Soobin asked and his voice was laced with confusion.
“Because she probably thinks it’s going to work and you’ll fall for it. God I knew based off her MBTI that she was going to try something, I could see the determination in her eyes when she saw Y/n.”
Soobin couldn’t help but scoff with a laugh. Why were you the reason Jia suddenly wanted to notice him again? You and Soobin were nothing but roommates, the only time you ever talk is during your daily debriefings when you’re getting midnight snacks. You don’t text and you don’t do anything together so it’s comical that you apparently worried his ex girlfriend enough based off one interaction to try and get him back—he wouldn’t do it, he should add.
“Wait! You know what you should do?” Taehyun dropped a itcher into the sink haphazardly as the idea came to mind, “Imagine if you started dating Y/n and made it known to Jia that you’ve moved on. She’s only putting in effort again because she probably thinks she can get you back. You gotta make her think you’re over her.”
“First of all, I am over her and second, Y/n and I don’t like each other like that,” Soobin said, making Taehyun roll his eyes.
“I don’t mean like actually date, I mean… make Jia think you are that way she can back off and won’t think she has a chance,” Taehyun said.
Soobin froze, looking at his friend in disbelief. Taehyun said it so casually like what he said wasn’t a big deal at all and Soobin just couldn’t believe it. He was completely lost by the whole and after an awkward silence between the two he just shook his head feeling a blush rise in his cheeks as he said, “That is a really bad idea.”
It was an awful idea and too much work. Soobin didn’t need to prove anything to anyone and why would he make Jia believe he was over her when he knew he was? She could try and talk to him all she wants but it won’t make a difference to him, honestly. It is kind of annoying that neither Taehyun or Yeonjun believed he was over Jia and now it seems like Jia doesn’t think so too? Why else would she be making this much effort to talk to him again?
Taehyun’s words were stuck in his head now and it made no sense. Why would he drag you into his problems and why would you want to do it? You probably have things going on in your own life that there's no reason to bother you with his. Sure, you’ve been fun to talk to since you’re not his usual circle of friends but that’s it. You don’t know each other well enough to do that.
“Hey,” when he got home that night, he could tell by the tone of your voice that something was off. You were in the kitchen washing some dishes when he walked in.
“Hey,” Soobin greeted as he began taking his shoes off at the door, “How was your day?”
“It was alright. I almost cried in the bathroom because my boss yelled at me for getting her the wrong milk in her coffee,” you said with a shrug, “And yours?”
“Oh,” Soobin said, blinking slowly trying to figure out if he should ask if you were okay or just say his part. “Um, it was nice, I worked with my friend but he said the craziest thing I had ever heard and it threw me off.”
You dried your hands off with the towel and walked past him, heading to your room but still holding conversation, “What’d he say?”
“He said that I should pretend to date you,” the words completely slipped from his and the second they were said, he felt his body tense up and his face go blank. You stopped at your door, turning to look at his confused state when he suddenly rushed to say, “I mean… She’s been trying to talk lately and I don’t know what she’s doing but it’s like she thinks we can get back together.”
He bit his lip and he just couldn’t stop talking, “So, Taehyun said I needed to make her think I was over her and that I should get your help but I thought it was an awful idea. Like, I don’t need to prove anything to her if anyone else and there’s no way you would ever do something lik—I would never ask you too and I know I should stop talking about it but you asked and for some reason I always just tell you what’s going and I can’t stop, oh my god.”
He covered his face with his hands, unable to see the way a smile played on your lips at his rambling. With a deep sigh you opened your bedroom door, “Goodnight.”
He waved goodbye, still refusing to look at you and stormed to his room in embarrassment. You got in yours and laid in bed where you got on your phone and immediately told your friends.
you: I think my roommate is weird
beomgyu: why
you: idk, just strange
kai: aww, ur twinning w/him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)
you: … ( •᷄ࡇ•᷅ )
beomgyu: (⸝⸝⸝◉⸝ 。 ⸝◉⸝⸝⸝)
you: anyway, he was talking about fake dating like this is a wattpad story
kai: do it, his ex is a bitch
Lately, it’s been getting hard for Soobin to look forward to the café. It’s such a huge contrast to the work he does at his internship that going to the cafe sometimes feels relaxing and not like work at all but these past few weeks have been dreadful. It’s very hard to ignore someone who hurt you when you have to work with her. It’s a constant reminder and everyone seems to always point it out. Taehyung was right, she was trying to do something with him again and it’s becoming even more noticeable everytime he goes to work.
“Are you going to Yuna’s party this weekend?” Jia asked him. The shop had been slow so he busied himself with closing duties, hoping he could get done sooner and meet his friend.
“Probably,” Soobin answered absently.
“Oh, maybe I’ll see you there,” Jia said with a nervous laugh, “I gotta be honest, Soobin it’s strange being so distant.”
Soobin scoffed, looking at her in disbelief. What was wrong with her and why did she act like there isn’t a cause for this distance.
Just as he was debating telling her how he felt, the bell above the door chimed and they both got ready to greet them with a customer service smile. His soon turned into a real smile despite his confusion at the surprise, “What are you doing here?”
“I want coffee?” Your tone was questioning but light as you got to the counter, trying not to look at the girl again.
It’s been a bit awkward since Soobin made that weird comment the other night but you’re tired of acting bothered by it. It was harmless and your friends thought it was funny [ and a good idea? ] but you just thought it was bizarre. You think it’s strange and although you wanted to avoid Soobin it’s very hard when you get to know him. He’s kind of cute actually—not looks wise but personality wise.
“Nice,” Soobin said with a nod of his head although he made no move to ring you up or make you a drink. You looked from him down to the register, “Can I order yet?”
“Oh, yes,” he cleared his throat awkwardly and waited for you to say something. Once he rang up your drink, he gave a discount and left to make it while you paid.
Honestly, he thought you were mad at him for what he said. He still has no idea why he brought up what Taehyun said but the way you ignored him let him know it was a mistake at the time. He’s been worried for days that he crossed the line but now you’re here talking to him like everything is normal. It makes him feel better.
You could feel Jia’s eyes on you and this time around it bothered you. Why was she glaring at you like you were the problem? You don’t even know her and it’s very obvious there’s nothing between you and Soobin. Why would it matter to her if there was or wasn’t?
“Are you off already?” Soobin asked handing you your drink over the counter.
You nodded, “Kind of? I still have some stuff to finish up but the WiFi at home is lagging.”
“Just work here then,” Soobin said motioning toward the tables, “Connect to the internet and keep me company.”
“How? You’re working,” you pointed out.
“Nobody’s here,” Soobin said, completely dismissing Jia, “Please?”
Now that he knows you’re not bothered by him it’s been like a confidence boost to try and befriend you again. He just needed the assurance that you weren’t going to ditch him and move out so for you to come and talk to him felt good. He was worried he scared you off.
With a dramatic sigh, you pretended to give in, “Oh, I guess I could do that. I’ll just stay a bit.”
“Or you could stay till I’m off and we can go home together,” Soobin said but the sound of the espresso machine grumbling stole your attention instead. Jia was cleaning it already and had no problem cutting your conversation short with the loudness of it.
She was clearly annoyed with you being here and you just couldn’t understand it. Why was she so mad when she’s the one who ruined her relationship with Soobin? Soobin deserved so much better and it annoys you that she’s the one upset now.
“Maybe, who knows if I want to wait that long,” you said playfully, watching him leave the counter to talk to you. You were the only one in the shop and he didn’t care either way, you’re his saving grace from spending this last hour with Jia trying to talk to him.
“Please? I’ll buy you food on the way,” he said, feeling your eyes on him.
He wore a cream colored crew neck and light washed baggy jeans, a brown apron tied at his waist and even his glasses tonight. You don’t see him in his glasses often so it was a nice surprise, “Alright, you got me. I’ll stay.”
What really made you decide on staying wasn’t his begging or his offer to buy you food but it was actually knowing he probably wanted to avoid any more alone time with his ex. You already pitied the guy’s circumstances and you couldn’t just leave him to suffer while he begged for your help.
So you stayed, you had to remind Soobin every now and then to get back to work when he would lose track of time telling you whatever was on his mind and forget a customer was around. Jia did not acknowledge you at all, not until the very end when she came up to you and with a snarky tone said, “Heads up, we close in ten minutes.”
“Okay,” you flashed her a polite but strained smile, “I’m just waiting for Soobin.”
“I know, but you’ll have to leave when we’re closing,” she said bluntly.
“Really? Thanks for the heads up,” you put your headphones back on and turned your attention to your laptop, making it known you weren’t going to talk to her anymore and with a slight roll of her eyes, she left.
After a minute or so, you closed your laptop and put your things away. You got up from the table as Soobin was coming out with things he was planning on restocking and when he saw you get up, he practically dropped it all to go to you, “What are you doing?”
“I’m just going to wait outside,” you said with a shrug, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.
“Bu—“
“Soobin, can you start cleaning out the espresso machines?” Jia asked with an annoyed tone and with a huff in irritation, he watched you make your leave till he was alone once again.
He didn’t bother talking to her as he finished up his chores and the cafè was filled with an uncomfortable silence the remainder of the time. He’s been cleaning all evening but Jia wants to remind him about the espresso machines just because she sees him talking to you. It’s crazy and Soobin doesn’t know how to speak up.
He has so much he wants to say but then he gets worried he’s being rude or overthinking things that he ends up just staying silent anyway. That’s probably why his relationship with Jia was so rocky from the beginning—and also why he didn't argue when he caught her. He just doesn’t want to be in uncomfortable situations.
You had honestly debated just going home despite Soobin wanting you to stay. It was freezing cold out and you only had a thin sweater that did nothing to keep you warm. You had every right to just go home but he asked you so nicely and Jia was kind of rude when she tried kicking you out and it makes your pettiness want to show through.
When Soobin and Jia finally finished closing, she waited around while she locked the door looking like she had something to say but he wouldn’t even turn to look at her. Instead, he looked around for you, worried you had left already but he found you sitting on the curb, surprising him in the process. Jia didn’t seem to see you there either and it was hard for her to hide the look of displeasure when you got up.
“So what are you feeding me?” You asked, hugging your arms around yourself to fight off the cold wind from the winter air. Soobin didn’t hesitate to take off his jacket, leaving him only in a crewneck and pulling it around you.
“Something warm?” He asked, looking at the tip of your nose which was a deep shade of red. The two of you left without so much as a goodbye and when you were out of earshot he added, “Also, thanks for waiting. I thought you would’ve left and now I feel bad that you had to wait outside. I would’ve said something but you were already leaving and I assumed you got mad and went home.”
“I was going to,” you said honestly as he held the door open to some Korean hotpot tent restaurant, “But I decided against it. Also, I’ve got something to say.”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, sitting down at a table across from you.
“I can tell you struggle a little bit speaking your mind and she talks to you like she still has a say over what you do,” you said to him, “And she was kind of rude? Like, she didn’t say anything mean to me but it’s obvious she doesn’t like me for talking to you and I don’t think that’s fair. So, is there any way we can make her know you don’t want her without you having to tell her harshly?”
It took him a moment to process everything you had said in such a short time and he wondered if you had said anything at all. Maybe he imagined you saying that because it’s been in his mind lately and he couldn’t see what you would gain anything from it so why would you help him?
He should just tell you it’s not something you have to do. If you were to go along with a charade just so that it looks like he’s moved on from his ex. He knows he has, he just can’t be mean. All he can do is ignore her but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Jia from approaching him. No, it still doesn’t mean he has to drag you into something useless.
“Well, there’s a party this weekend that I know she’ll be at.”
Pulling it off was harder than you had originally thought and there’s very specific reasons for this.
One, appearing as anything aside from friends or roommates was hard considering you were still at an awkward stage of friendship. You knew Soobin and how he looked in the mornings but you’ve no clue what his favorite movie is or favorite color or even his zodiac sign. You knew his ex girlfriend was a cheating bitch but you don’t know what his internship is or what his major was in college so when someone at the party asked you things about Soobin… you had no idea what to say.
Two, you’re not sure if the chemistry is there. So far, you don’t think you’re pulling it off. Sure, Soobin has remained at your side since the two of you got here but you think you both look stiff and nervous. Even when someone expects him to introduce you, it feels weird and you’re not sure how close you’re supposed to seem.
“You two suck,” Taehyun said [the first time he had ever spoken to you too], “Put some flavor into this. Hold hands, act cute, give me emotion because I can tell you right now, Jia won’t think she’s got competition.
Soobin rolled his eyes, “Shh, this is harder than we thought it would be— a-nd it’s not about competition.”
“Really? Because Yuna asked me who you brought because Jia was asking her, something about you not wanting to talk to her?” Taehyun said with a chuckle, “It’s like she’s completely forgotten what happened.”
You hadn’t spoken up once this entire time but Soobin was beginning to look visibly uncomfortable talking about his ex in a crowded place. Usually he’s open when you’re at home and you’re the only one listening to him but right now he keeps glancing around anxiously.
“Should we get a drink?” You asked him suddenly, watching him nod his head eagerly in an attempt to leave his friend who said too many things he didn’t want to hear right now.
“Sorry for him, he just says things sometimes and—“
“It’s alright,” you laughed softly, making your way to the kitchen where the countertop was filled with various bottles. Soobin was right behind you, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.
He doesn’t understand you. You’re so nice to him and he doesn’t know what to make of it. You don’t question him or make him talk when he doesn’t want to. You seem to have some understanding of what he wants and he doesn’t even have to tell you anything.
He knows you’re just helping him out so he doesn’t look like a sore loser at a party he knows his ex-girlfriend is at but for the moment, he wants to forget Jia is here. Can he just have one night where his past relationship isn’t brought up by Taehyun or Yeonjun or anybody else? Can he just pretend like the two of you are here as friends just hanging out and not because you somewhat pitied his circumstances?
“You look pretty tonight,” the words slipped before he could stop himself and he immediately turned red in embarrassment, “I mean… yknow…”
“Thanks,” you said casually as you filled a cup of whatever interested you, “I actually put in effort, just for you.”
You didn’t think much about what you said even though you could see the blush in his cheeks. It was a bit surprising actually. At first, you thought Soobin was just some distant gamer you shared an apartment with but little by little you’ve gotten to know him more. He’s still shy like you first assumed but he’s also kind of cute, as a friend you mean. It would be weird to think of him as anything but that considering what he’s gone through lately.
He couldn’t help but smile, trying to hide it by biting his lower lip but his dimple still showed through and for a second he just stood there looking at you. You handed him a drink and as he opened his mouth to say something else, a familiar feminine voice came from behind him.
“Soobin? Is this where you’ve been hiding all night?” Yuna asked as she entered the kitchen with a smile, “I kept hearing everyone say you were here but I couldn’t find you. Hey buddy.”
“Hey Yuna,” Soobin said with a smile. Yuna was one of the few other baristas from work and someone he did enjoy working with. She was bubbly and nice so they got along easily but she’s more friends with Jia than him. He still can’t tell if she knew Jia cheated on him or not and he hasn’t bothered saying anything. She knew something happened to make them break up but neither have gone into it for different reasons. He didn’t want to tell the whole world he was cheated on and Jia didn’t want to seem like the lying cheater she was.
“This is Y/n,” Soobin said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward his side, “She’s my uh, um…”
“Friend,” you said, emphasizing on the word that it sounded like it had a double meaning and he couldn’t tell if you did it on purpose. Did you mean friend, like how he’s friends with Yeonjun and Taehyun? Or did you mean, friend, like something more?
While he tried to decipher it, Yuna seemed to pick up on the tone much faster than he did and her smile strained slightly. “Really? That’s, uh, that’s great. Have you seen Jia yet?”
“Who?” You asked Soobin, looking cutely confused, feigning innocence as you touched his arm.
“The girl from work,” Soobin said despite you already knowing. The room began to feel hot as Yuna stared at you and Soobin couldn’t take the heat. He didn’t like the way it seemed like she was trying to pick you apart with her eyes—probably seeing if there was anything she should tell Jiw and he couldn’t take it. It had him taking big sips of his drink to satiate his dry mouth, completely ignoring the heavy taste of alcohol.
“Binnie,” your use of a nickname nearly sent him in a spiral, it was the first time you’ve ever called him as such and there was a possibility it was all for show.
“Yeah?” He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring Yuna to turn to you.
“Don’t drink so fast, okay?” Concern was evident in your tone but you didn’t seem displeased. You just worried about having to haul a 6-foot-something drunk man back to your apartment when he wasn’t your boyfriend.
He looked down at his empty cup, realizing he really did chug back the full drink quickly and the thought alone made him dizzy. He’s usually good at knowing his limit but he’s been nervous all night. When you first got here he got a drink that emptied out right after he saw Taehyun for the first time. It was before Taehyun had even approached you two because he was in the middle of some game but it made Soobin nervous. He had to tell his friend ahead of time that he was bringing you but then the thought of Taehyun saying something he should had him anxious and he chugged his drink then too.
Now, Yuna’s here bringing up Jia once again and on top of that you’ve called him a friend but your tone sounded different than usual and you held his arm and called him Binnie—and it all just became too much.
What was wrong with him?
“Soobin?” You said his name a little while after the kitchen encounter and you sounded so distant despite standing right next to him. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was at least tipsy.
His cheeks were flushed, his eyes a bit lazy and he just seemed less stiff than earlier. He’s also leaning into you a bit, no longer caring who saw or what people thought of it but more so for a sense of comfort as his vision blurred with the alcohol in his system. “Hm?”
“You okay?” You asked as he blinked slowly, “You don’t seem as nervous anymore.”
“Oh! Um,” he looked down at you and how close the two of you had grown, making him grin, “I’m fine, I’m with you.”
“Okay… but let me know when you’re ready to call it a night,” you said with a small yawn and he couldn’t help but look to your lips, blinking away the thought as you pressed your lips closed and looked off in the distance.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts a bit but right now everything seemed fuzzy. The night had been fine at first. He hadn’t been nervous at all and was actually a bit excited to get a chance to hang out with you [aside from the night you stopped to get food] and he had been thinking on how it would go all day.
When the two of you got to the party he had met up with Taehyun and he had a good time with him too so the only time he ever felt uncomfortable was when he was reminded of the situation. Talking about Jia didn’t bother him as much as the reminder that everyone knew about it did. On top of that, anytime someone looked at you or asked who you were, he would get nervous. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him.
Just as you were going to ask him one more time if he was okay, you felt a sudden weight pressed against your shoulder as Soobin leaned into your side. He felt heavy against your arm and his head dipped low enough that his face was pressing into yours, “I think I’m ready.”
“Ready?” You ask, feeling your heart race as the warmth of his breath fanned your neck and his hand brushed against yours like he was debating reaching for yours. When you looked at him, it was finally noticeable that whatever he drank tonight had taken effect and he was finally drunk. He’s more quiet than you expected. His cheeks are red with a blush and his lips a bit pouty making him look a little cute.
He nodded his head aggressively, “Let’s go home.”
You didn’t question his decision and took his hand in yours when he swayed in his step and looked around for his friend so they could at least say their goodbyes. Every now and then you would look back to see how he was hanging but he seemed perfectly content having a blank mind and being dragged behind you.
“Soob? You good there, buddy?” Taehyun asked once he saw his friend’s state of drunkenness and placed a soothing hand on his tall friend’s back.
“Yesh,” Soobin said, leaning into your back, “Going home.”
Taehyun looked over at you with concerned eyes, “Are you alright? Sorry, I think he had too much to drink.”
“I’m good, the last bus will pass soon so we’ll just get home that way,” You told him, scanning the people around at the party, eyes catching on the one person you didn’t care to see.
Jia didn’t shy back from your short eye contact and she looked far from happy at the way Soobin was clinging to you—something he never did with her. To be fair, Jia was usually the one out at parties and getting wasted so she didn’t give him many chances to be the drunk one with no worries.
It bothered her to see how comfortable Soobin had gotten with another girl after their break up.
“Alright, i’ll give you my number and just let me know if you two get home safe,” Taehyun said before leaning closer into you, “Also, Soobin really likes being around you. Be safe.”
His friend left after that and for a moment you thought about what he just said, wondering how he meant it and if you were too hard into it.
“Y/n,” Soobin whined against you, “Home, please.”
“Oh my god, okay, let's go,” You said with a small laugh as he followed after you as got to the door.
Soobin was tired, he always got sleepy when he drank too much and when the two of you got on the empty bus, he couldn’t help but rest his head against the window. You didn’t pay much attention to him on the ride home but every now and then he could feel your eyes on him probably wondering how he was holding up. Going up to your apartment was another challenge trying to drag Soobin up the stairs without stumbling up the steps.
“Thanks,” Soobin yawned cutely as he rubbed his tired eyes, waving you goodnight.
You went to your room silently, flashing him a smile as you left and once your door was shut, you immediately began to undress. It had been a long night and all you wanted was to crawl in bed, scroll in your phone and go to sleep. You didn’t drink as much as Soobin did so the alcohol didn’t have the same effect on you but you were still tired. It was nice getting to hang out with him for a while despite the reason or who was around. At some points you were able to forget who was there but when you would catch sight of Jia and think back to Soobin, you just couldn’t understand why she would ever do that to someone.
Now changed into your pajamas, too tired to do anything more, you were halfway crawling on your bed when there was a soft thud on your door and a small whine of your name, “Y/n.”
“Yes, Soobin?” You asked with a sigh and a smile as you heard your roommate on the other side of the door, “I thought you were going to bed.”
“I’m not tired, can I come in?” He asked and you could practically see the pout on his lips. It was about midnight so you should just turn him away but you could hear the shuffling on the other side of the door and before you knew it, you were unlocking your bedroom door and letting him in.
“What’s wrong?” You asked as he hesitated to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Nothing,” he answered honestly, “I just… I wanted to see what you were up to, were you going to bed?”
“I was probably just going to be on my phone a bit,” you laid down on your usual spot reaching for the remote to your television, “What should I watch?”
You didn’t outwardly tell him to lay down next to you but the way you moved your things to your side, it was easy to assume you didn’t mind. Soobin was still hesitant to lay down with his back against your headboard but once you made no sign to kick him out, he let himself relax as you scrolled through Netflix.
“Something scary,” Soobin said, barely paying attention as he looked around your bedroom. This was the first time he had stepped into it since you moved in and it looks completely different than what it did before. He couldn’t explain into words but it looked like a room you would have. It was like an insight to who you are from the pictures on your walls to the clothes by your closet. It was cozy and your bed was so soft he found himself yawning.
“You surprised me tonight,” You told him as you finally settled on a movie about a haunted house, “First because you were surprisingly popul—“
“Why’s that a surprise?” Soobin asked, slightly more alert as he looked at you, “I’m a catch.”
“You are,” you said casually, “I just meant… a lot of people like you.”
He couldn’t help but bite his lips at your words. He didn’t mean to seem overly confident or anything but he knew he was somewhat likable. He tried being nice and friendly to everyone and clearly sometimes that didn’t work in his favor when it came to relationships but he’s always had people around him. Not everyone he would consider a real friend but the ones he have right now or the real deal.
Taehyun and him got along from the moment they met at work. Soobin’s the one who trained Taehyun when he first started and they just got super close from there.
Yeonjun has been his best friend for as long as he can remember and they even fight like an old bickering couple too.
Sometimes they don’t understand him—like when they thought he was still upset over Jia, and he needs a break from them but that’s where you came along. You’re one of his friends now too so does that mean you also like him?
As a friend?
As more?
No, not as more. He was getting ahead of himself.
“Don’t say those things to me, Y/n,” Soobin whined, hiding behind a pillow.
“Why?” You asked with a small laugh as he curled himself up on your bed, looking every bit out of place in your Sanrio bed sheets and his tall frame.
“Because, they’ll get to my head,” he confessed, sitting up a little to regain himself, “So what’s the other reason you were surprised by me?”
You hummed in thought, “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re drunk, and really clingy.”
It was clear that throughout the time it took to get home, Soobin had sobered up enough to have clearer thoughts and you just wanted to be honest. It’s what you believed and you hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way and think you were hitting on him. Sure, Soobin is attractive for many reasons and you enjoy hanging out with him but just think about the circumstances. He’s your roommate and he just got out of a relationship with someone who cheated on him.
“I mean,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, acting like you were watching the movie, “I bet you really sold it to Jia that you were seeing someone. There’s no way she’ll try and get you to go out with her again now.”
At the reminder, Soobin seemed to sigh, “Yeah.”
For a second he had thought you were going to say something else. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment and it worries him but at the same time it’s exciting and he wished he didn’t react this way to you and so soon.
“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, letting out a small yawn as you made yourself more comfortable indeed the covers.
“Only in the afternoon,” Soobin said, looking over at you hopefully, “Why? Do you want to do something?”
“I have to work, if I get off early I might stop by,” You said, looking back at him too. You could see the small dimple in his cheek become more prominent as he resisted the urge to smile, nodding his head.
With a small sigh, Soobin checked the time and sat up, “Okay, I’ll let you sleep.”
For some reason he wanted to do or say more but he’s not sure what he would’ve been able to say in the first place. You got up after him so you could close the door on his way out but at the door, you both stopped to look at each other.
“I did have fun tonight,” you told him truthfully.
Soobin stood at the door looking down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth. It was becoming more obvious that he liked being around you. He thought you were pretty and fun to be with and you have yet to make him feel poorly. He’s very aware of the fact that he’s only been single for a little over a month but he can’t deny the sudden race in his heart when you’re around.
It scares him to think he might be feeling something toward you at such an awkward time.
“Goodnight.”
Things slowly began to change between you two and neither one of you knew what to do about that sort of thing. On one hand, Soobin wanted to see if you would like to spend more time together but he also wasn’t sure if he was ready. It has nothing to do with how he felt toward his ex girlfriend and more with how he felt at possibly seeing someone again.
Jia was a major push to his confidence and definitely raised his insecurities and trust issues so he thought he would stay single for a while. Plus, you were his roommate which could pose an entirely different problem and yet none of that has helped him stop thinking about you. It’s been days from the party and he knows hes been slightly more in your bubble than before but its only because he doesn’t know how to read you.
How is he supposed to know how you might feel about him and how should he feel about it?
“You’re overthinking it,” Yeonjun said as he sat across from Soobin and Yeonjun who were in their matching brown aprons as part of the cafe’s unofficial uniform. The cafe was empty aside from a couple college students grossly immersed in their studies to care that the only two workers were currently siting at a table with a friend. Every now and then the three would feel the eyes of some high school girl gawking at them through the shop windows but none dared to enter making the cafe slow with traffic.
“If you like her, why can’t you at least try?” Yeonjun asked him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Because she’s my roommate and what if that just messes things up completely?” Soobin asked.
“I mean, Y/n seemed pretty into you at the party,” Taehyun said with a shrug of his shoulders.
Soobin shook his head, “No, she was just being nice. I was drunk and probably embarrassed myself so there’s no way she liked it—well, okay she said it was cute, but do you think she meant it?”
Yeonjun reached across the small table and pinched Soobin’s cheek hard, pouting his lips in a kiss as he gushed over his friend, “Of course she meant it, just look at you. Who can resist this bunny face?”
Just as Soobin was ready to fight Yeonjun off, the familiar bell above the door rang and a loud burst of energy came through the door.
“Kai, I swear to god, if you don’t stop I’m going to bite you,” a guy said as he smacked another guy off and the two cafe workers couldn’t help but snap into attention and get behind the counter.
“Y/n,” Kai said with a forced whiny voice, “Save me.”
“Don’t touch me,” you pushed him off as you looked around the cafè for Soobin.
Just a couple feet away from you, he stood there with his lips parted in surprise before letting his eyes drift off to the two guys behind you. A smile spread across his lips as he left Taehyun and Yeonjun to go to you, “Hi, what are you doing here?”
“We were just at the arcade across the street so I figured why not stop for a drink?” You said with a gentle smile that had him practically giggling.
“Oh, so you didn’t come just to see me?” Soobin teased, a flirty undertone in his voice. He couldn’t help but glance back to the guys, curious who they were.
Since you moved in, you haven’t brought anyone home and he assumed you were single since you offered to go with him to a party—and let him on your bed, but now he’s not sure. What if everything you were doing really was as a friend and he’s just overthinking it all?
“Sadly no, I really need coffee,” you joked as he went to the counter to get you a drink. Taehyun was helping the two guys while you talked to Soobin and he couldn’t wait to be done so he can ask who they were.
“O-oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he began to make it, ringing you up and trying to apply some sort of discount so you wouldn’t have to pay full price. Before he could tell you your total,one of the guys who was with you gave him cash to pay.
Beomgyu placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper, “Is this him?”
You just nodded your head ignoring his growing smile as he thanked Soobin for his change back and ruffled your hair, “Hurry up, I need real food.”
“Are you gonna be home later?” Soobin asked as the guys left through the door, waiting outside but looking in and it was clear they were talking about you. He wanted to say he was just curious for no reason but part of him wanted to know if you would be out with them.
“Probably, not till late though, I think we’re probably gonna go have a drink or two,” you said with a shrug and this was the perfect time for Soobin to ask who they were. Were they just friends? Was one of them something more? Have you been in any relationship?
“Let me know if you want me to pick you up,” Soobin said, “I-I mean, yknow, repay the favor from the other night that I embarrassed myself.”
“You didn’t,” you rolled your eyes looking around. Your friends were waiting and you had your drink so you should’ve left by now but instead you’re looking at his two friends. Taehyun had gone with Yeonjun again and it’s the first time in a while you saw Yeonjun. When you first met him he had gone over to the apartment and you had thought he was attractive. You still do but not in the same context anymore. Taehyun waved at you enthusiastically which you did back and looked back at Soobin, “It was cute, but should I call you tonight then? Or will you be asleep.”
“I’ll hear you come home either way, so come say hi even if it’s late,” Soobin said, making you nod your head.
“Okay, well I have to go before they come and drag me out,” you told him as you pointed to your two friends who were getting annoyed waiting out there.
“Y/n,” he called for you but when you looked back at him, he couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Nevermind, be safe.”
Soobin waved you goodbye and watched you leave with the guy from earlier wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
“God, Bin, you can’t even hide it,” Yeonjun said with a chuckle as Soobin joined them again, “You looked jealous.”
“What?” Soobin looked at him with big doe eyes, looking every bit clueless as he felt, “No, I just—I don’t, um, Y/n’s… did I?”
They both nodded their heads and Taehyun said, “Yes but not too much. We noticed because we’re your best friends but I’m sure none of them could tell. You were all smiley and blush which is major cringecore with Y/n but any time you looked at those guys, you’d glare.”
“I don’t glare,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he stared at the window, “Besides, I don’t know if one of them is dating Y/n so there’s no point in doing anything now.”
“You didn’t bother to ask!?” Yeonjun and Taehyun asked at the same time that it caused Soobin to jump, feeling startled.
“I’m sorry but if I was into someone and I was in their bed and then I see them talking to someone, you better believe I’m going to ask who!” Yeonjun added, making Soobin groan in frustration that he couldn’t just man up and ask.
It’s clear there’s no point in pretending he isn’t catching feelings for you and he has to figure out how to tell you. The only problem is if you reject him, he won’t be sure how to live with you anymore—especially if you were to date someone.
He should’ve just acted curious and asked who they were.
“You guys are so annoying,” you said with a groan as you followed after your two best friends who were fighting down the street.
“Soobin and Y/n, kissing in a tree! K-I-S-S—ow, ow, ow!” Kai cried out as you pulled his ear.
“This is why I don’t tell you guys anything,” you said when they laughed. Kai was doing that creepy evil loud laugh he always does and Beomgyu is just instigating it.
“First of all, you tell us everything,” Beomgyu pointed out, “And what’s the problem? Pretty sure he likes you too.”
“Oh my god, I don’t like Soo—I mean, he’s my roommate, it would be weird,” you said, “Plus, he just got out of a relationship.”
“Yeah like two months ago or something, and she cheated on him,” Kai said before clutching his chest, “You could heal his heart.”
“Corny,” Beomgyu yelled and the two laughed again.
“Whatever, let’s just go eat.”
It took a lot of convincing from his friends for him to actually agree to just go for it. He had been debating it for a while now and each day that passed where he gets to see you first thing in the morning or last thing at night just reminds him he wants to keep seeing you. He’s not sure how much more he could go just acting like a friend.
He likes everything about you and he’s not good at hiding it. Usually, it takes him a while to fall for someone.
When he met Jia its because they were partners in chemistry one semester and she helped him get the job at the cafe so he could make more money aside from his internship. Truth be told, Jia kind of scared him at first because she never hid her interest from him. She was aggressive with it and he didn’t know how to react so he never made a move on her.
She’s the one who had to ask him and even then, he didn’t say yes right away because he hadn’t been sure if it was something he wanted to do. Over time he obviously grew feelings for her but the relationship never felt as easy as his friendship with you did.
So really, the realization of how differently and strongly he felt for you in such a short time was an indicator that he clearly had strong feelings for you.
When he got home after the cafe, he had a strong sense of confidence that was going to be his push to just go for it. He had been talking himself up all day and had decided the worst thing that could happen is you say no. He could live with that… maybe.
“Y/n?” Soobin called out to you as he dropped his things at the door, “You home?”
You were in your room reading some poetry book with music playing quietly and he knocked on your open door. You looked up at him, sliding your headphones down to your neck, “Hey.”
You sat up a little, motioning for him to come inside and he looked around nervously, “Are you busy?”
“No?” You smiled as you looked down at your book, “What’s up?”
Soobin bit his lip in thought as he tried to figure out how to word it before saying, “Do you want to… I don’t know, get food? Maybe go for a walk later?”
“Um, sure?” You said with a racing heart, “What time?”
“Um, an hour? Forty five minutes?” Soobin asked, more eager now knowing you’ll hang out with him, “Thirty?”
“In thirty minutes?” You asked, “Okay.”
“Okay, I’m just gonna change and probably, uh,” Soobin blinked nervously, “Get ready.”
“Okay,” you laughed softly as he nearly stumbled out the door. Once your door was shut, you jumped out of bed and straight to your vanity where you hoped to make yourself look a little better.
This wasn’t a date.
Soobin didn’t ask you out, he just asked you to get food.
How would you feel if he were to ask you on a date? Would he ever do that or does he only see you as a friend? For all you know, he’s sworn off dating completely.
When you left with Soobin at your side, things were normal. You talked about normal things, laughed about normal things and for a while you were able to forget your worries. You were just spending time with someone you enjoy spending time with without thinking every little thing over nonstop.
“So what’s your type?” Soobin asked so suddenly that you nearly choked on your water. Usually he’s not so forward with his questions so it caught you off guard. The two of you were at a small restaurant and it felt oddly like a date when he asked you things like this.
With an awkward clear of your throat, you said, “Um, I’m not sure if I have a type. The people I’ve been with in the past have all been a little different, I think.”
“What about looks?” Soobin asked, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He knows he’s an attractive guy but what if he still wasn’t your type?
You laughed softly, “I don’t know, Binnie, I like who I like.”
Soobin couldn’t help but blush, as he finally decided to ask, “What about me?”
You looked at him curiously, trying to decipher what he meant and when he couldn’t meet your gaze, you said, “You?”
“Am I your type?” He asked quietly. The server brought your meals which worked as a distraction to give you time to calm your beating heart and you took a deep breath.
It was hard to say because as of now… yes. You’ve always thought Soobin was attractive and kind and you’ve never actually dated someone like him so to say he’s your type is weird when you’re not sure if you even have one. You like Soobin, you know you do but what would it mean if you answer this question and what does he expect you to say?
“I think so,” you said shyly, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. Soobin resisted the urge to smile and ask you more about how you might feel for him.
He tried not to bring so much up while you had your late dinner and when the bill came, it became another topic of discussion.
“Soobin, you paid last time,” you said remembering the time you went to get hotpot last time, “Either I can pay or we can split the bill.”
“I asked you to come out with me,” Soobin said, getting his wallet out, “So I’m going to pay.”
“Binnie,” you said to him, watching him set money for the bill and a little extra for a tip before standing up, ready to leave. The server took the money and bid you both a goodnight.
“Y/n,” he used the same whiny voice you had, “Next time I’ll let you pay, I promise.”
Part of him wanted to reach for your hand as you left the restaurant but instead, he said, “I don’t want to go home yet.”
You have to admit, Soobin is really making your heart flutter in a very confusing way. You thought about taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the park across the street but you decided against it, unsure if it was something he wanted.
The night of the party when you held his hand, he made sure to not let it go even when you were on the bus but maybe it was just because he was drunk and not feeling good?
“So let’s go on a walk then,” you said, taking the reign to hold his hand, trying not to think about it.
Soobin smiled widely as he happily held yours, swinging them a little, “Y/n, I just want to say, you’re one of my best friends.”
He’s not sure he’s ever been able to call someone he’s dating his best friend. His past girlfriends never really cared to get to know him or have the same interests which wasn’t necessarily a problem but you’ve become his friend first and he thinks that’s what helped him develop feelings for you. You liked the same things, you enjoyed each other’s company and you never made him feel weird no matter what he did. He was being honest when he called you his best friend, it’s just that he wanted you to be more too.
“Who’s my competition?” You asked, waiting for him to say Taehyun or Yeonjun but he just shook his head, fixing your hands so your fingers were intertwined.
“You don’t have any,” Soobin shrugged, staring ahead at the path of street lamps, feeling a slight chill in the night air.
After a while the two of you decided to take a seat on a bench nearby, just under a streetlamp that casted down on it like a scene from a movie. You couldn’t help but shiver under the cold yet neither one of you brought up possibly going home—as if that would end the chances of spending time together.
Soobin felt you shivering beside him and without wasting too much time pondering, he scooted closer to you until his side was pressed to yours and provide you with much needed warmth. You looked at him with a teasing a smile, “So what you’re saying is, I’m actually your only best friend. I’m not sure if Taehyung or Yeonjuun would like that.”
He smiled cheekily, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, I don’t really keep it a secret that you’re my new favorite person.”
“Oh wow, what an honor. What did I do to deserve that?” You asked with a playful tone, trying to hide the way your face began to heat up.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking over at you with soft, moonlit eyes, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, unsure what to even say and you just looked into each other’s eyes, wondering if you were thinking the same. You were so close now and it was getting very hard to ignore when you couldn’t look away from him. Soobin was hesitant for a long while, debating if he should just go for it.
There were a millón things running through your mind, some about kissing him, or not kissing. Wondering if you should cross the line or give him space. You turned to face him, lips parting, “I—“
It happened rather quickly, the brush of his lips against yours, and you hadn’t fully thought it through when you kissed him back. There was a sudden sense of bliss that caused him to relax into the short kiss, melting into you when your lips moved against his.
His fingers lingered on your thigh, itching to deepen the kiss with a hand in your hair. Just as he was going to reach out, you pulled away abruptly, nearly leaving him to follow and his eyes snapped awake, unaware when he closed them.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” You whispered so quietly he could barely hear you. It didn’t stop his heart from dropping with clarity, “Oh”
You were rejecting him, even if you kissed him too.
“Binnie, I just—I like you but,” You bit your lip nervously, ‘I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“Oh,” he slumped back, giving you more space, “Why? Because we live together?”
“Yeah,” you sounded regretful, “And you haven’t been single for long and I just don’t want to be a, um…”
“You think it’ll be like a rebound?” Soobin asked with a small scoff, “Y/n, I… I wouldn’t do that to you, I want to try with you.”
“But, I don’t know, I just don’t want this to become a real thing, and it ends badly and we can’t talk anymore,” you confessed, “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Soobin said, “I get it.”
He doesn’t.
Silence filled the space between you and neither one of you knew what to do about it. The awkwardness was already beginning to settle and he didn’t want that at all. A sorry smile spread across his lips, “You’re still my favorite person.”
A laugh left your lips, an ounce of worry disappearing but you still felt awful. You liked Soobin, and you were always such a sure person but when it comes to relationships you can be doubtful. You never know their full intentions and although Soobin is a really good guy but you haven’t known each other long and he was just in a relationship not that long ago.
After a while he asked if you should head home and the walk back was a bit quieter.
Honestly, you really did like Soobin. You never thought of him as anything more than a friend but not because you wanted to friendzone him but because you I never thought he saw you as anything but. Maybe you thought you would be the one rejected that you never thought about him romantically. He was attractive and you always knew so but you just seemed different at the time.
You were friendly, you talked nicely to each other and to only been a while since you started hanging around him. You assumed you were the only one feeling this way and its strange to learn that’s not true.
How would you have guessed he had feelings for you? Sure, he was nice from the getgo but it had always been casual. The only time e acted differently was when he was drunk and even then you assumed it was because he was too drunk to remember. Sheen he crawled into your bed after, it are your heart race but nothing happened between you two and it was never mentioned again. You grew to like him but you had no idea he would start liking you too.
It was a flaw in your character design, you think. You have no problem making decisions and being more confident and in control with it came to other things but for some reason when it comes to yourself, you’re doubtful. It’s easy for you to catch on to feelings when it comes to others but yourself.
That’s not to say you’ve never been in a relationship with someone but you’ve always just struggled reading how someone feels about you. Now you feel awful thinking you read Soobin’s intentions wrong but you couldn’t help it. You know what it feels like to be a rebound and its not a feeling you want to go through again.
The other person didn’t make you feel as good as your time with Soobin does and that’s what worried you. You’re also not in a spot to put your living situation at risk again. You had gotten so lucky to find him and f it goes bad between you, where would you go? You’re not as strong as Soobin. He could keep working with Jia and seeing her in public after what she did to him and be fine, but would you be able to live with him after? If he hurt you, or if you hurt him… could you handle it?
Lately, its not that you’ve been purposely avoiding him but ever since the kiss, your paths have barely passed. It seems like you both made an effort to interact at least once before and now that you’re not, its been boring.
When Soobin gets to the cafe, he couldn’t even think about having to work with Jia. She wasn’t in his mind anymore because all he could think about is you. You didn’t fully reject him and that’s what drives him insane.
“Hey Soob,” Taehyung said as he watched his friend walked past him with a somber expression, completely ignoring him.
You like him. You said you liked him, right? So why can’t you just give him a chance?
His mind felt a million miles away as he slipped up on his apron, tying it over his baggy shirt and sweats. Soobin was unaware of the stares his coworkers sent him as he found his job for the day and busied himself with it.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Jia pointed out toward the end of their shift, “Did something happen?”
Her voice was laced with feigned concern and that only bother him more. Why does she bother pretending like she cares about him?
“Nothing that you have to worry about,” Soobin mumbled more to himself than her but she heard him anyway. He wouldn’t tell her about you and how you somewhat rejected him, instead he looked at the time wishing Taehyun could’ve just stayed till close with him and Jia.
“Soobin,” Jia’s voice was soft, coming over to where he was wiping down tables and chairs, “I know you and I aren’t as close as we used to be but… I really do care about you.”
A small scoff left his lips that he wasn’t able to hide as much as before and he turned away, ready to leave her behind so he could be alone.
“Does it have anything to do with that girl?” She asked closer to close when there wasn’t a single customer in sight and the sign had already been flipped.
Soobin couldn’t help but release a sigh in frustration as he looked at her, “Jia, why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” She asked with furrowed brows.
“Why are you acting like you all of a sudden care? Can’t we just work without talking and then go home?” Soobin asked, clearly annoyed and not in the mood for her.
He’s kept his mouth shut ever since they broke up and he’s never asked her to explain anything or to apologize so why doesn’t she just let it go. He’s been biting his tongue because he didn’t want to seem bitter that she cheated on him but at this point he doesn’t care. He has other things to worry about then listening to his ex girlfriend try and act like everything is okay between them.
“Soobin, I’m sorry,” Jia confessed watching as he walked past her to the front door already holding the key to lock the shop for the night, “I know I probably hurt you and what I did was unforgivable but can you please just give me one more chance. I—I don’t like thinking you hate me.”
“Jia, I don’t hate you,” Soobin told her honestly as they stood outside and he can see the way she got hope in her eyes, making him keep explaining, “And I can work with you because I have to but I’m not going to forgive you.”
It felt strange being so honest after acting unaffected for a while but it was the truth and he needed to get it out, “You cheated on me, don’t you get that?”
“I know bu—“
“No, you clearly don’t know because since you saw me and Y/n get closer all you’ve wanted to do is talk to me. It’s not because you still want me but because you know you fucked up and don’t want me to move on with anyone else,” Soobin said harshly, “Do you realize how frustrating it is to want to be with someone and everyone thinks you’re not over your cheating ex girlfriend?”
Jia looked like she wanted to say something but the words were caught in her throat, so Soobin continued, “You slept with someone I lived with behind my back and in my own home and you think apologizing and asking for one more chance is going to work?”
She was frozen, unsure what to say or if she should say anything at all. Of course he’s right and she was only wishing that things could change but she knows that she fucked up. Being with Soobin had been great, he was sweet and caring and she wanted more so she looked for more in a guy who doesn’t mean a thing to either one of them.
It had always felt like Soobin didn’t love her, like he only dealt with her because they were dating and even then it felt like she pushed him to it. He never got upset with her, even when he caught her cheating, he was just quiet and listened to her apologies over and over again. All he did was ask them both to leave and that was it. When he still went to work at the cafe she hoped it was a sign that he would forgive her if he could still stand being around her but then you came along and she could see the way Soobin’s face began to light up.
From the get-go, she feels like you were able to draw more out from him than she ever was and that really did annoy her. She’s not putting the blame on him for her cheating but why couldn’t he show more with her as he had with you and why is it too late now?
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, close to tears but it was obvious Soobin didn’t care anymore.
“Have a good night, Jia,” he sighed, leaving her behind as he went to the bus stop.
He likes you, you’re all he’s been able to think about and he can’t stand knowing you doubt his intentions. Soobin has never been the type to use someone for his own gain and even that night of the party he forgot you went with him so he wouldn’t be alone knowing Jia was there. Once he had you with him, he didn’t care who was around. All he cared about was you and he needs you to know that.
When he got home, he was surprised to see you coming out of your bedroom right as he walked through the front door. You looked over at him, nervous and unsure what to say or if you should say anything at all. You weren’t sure if he was still upset with you or if he was ever really upset by what you said.
“Hey,” you said shyly, walking toward the kitchen where you were returning a bowl.
“Hey,” Soobin set his things, debating if he should go to his room or just try with you one more time.
Now that he’s told Jia how he feels about her still trying with him, he feels more confident to tell you exactly what it is he wants with you. He doesn’t want a rebound, he doesn’t care about his last relationship, he cares about getting to know you and kissing you more.
“Were you just at work?” You asked, trying to make some conversation, see if you could read how he might feel with you.
“Yeah,” Soobin joined you in the kitchen, “I had to close with Jia.”
You turned away from the counter, jumping slightly at how close he was behind you suddenly, “And how was that?”
“Well she apologized and asked for a second chance,” Soobin said, looking down at you, so close that his front nearly brushed against yours. You raised a brow in surprise that Jia had the nerve to ask for another chance but you wondered if Soobin was bringing this up because he planned on giving it to her.
“Oh?” You said, unsure what he was planning on saying next.
Soobin bit his lip, not shying away from your stare like he normally would, “So I told her that it was never going to happen because I’ve moved on and I like you and I don’t want you to think I’m using you or still not over my ex because I’m so over her, you don’t understand. The night of the party was one of the first nights I realized how much I like you and it’s taken me a while to admit it because I wanted to be sure.”
You blinked in surprise as he moved even closer, “And I know you kind of rejected me the other night but I also know you like me too so if you just give me one chance, I swear I’ll be the best boy you’ve ever been with and I have no intentions of just being with you as some rebound. You mean so much more to me and I should’ve told you that the other night but Y/n, I really want to be with you and no one else.”
With a small sigh, you leaned onto the counter behind you and nodded, “I want to be with you too, Binnie, but…”
He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he reached forward, cupping your face in his hands, “Y/n, just give me a chance.”
“I—okay,” you laughed softly and with that, he was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours gently.
Your eyes fell shut, reaching out to touch him when he moved closer, pushing you against the counter with no room to go anywhere. A small gasp left your lips in surprise and it gave him a chance to deepen the kiss with his tongue.
“Soobin,” you laughed in shock as he pulled back in an attempt to catch his breath, “That was unexpected, different from the last kiss.”
His hands were resting on the counter, trapping you between them, he was leaning downuntil he could leave tender kisses along your neck, “I’m sorry, I… it was sudden and last time you wanted to stop.”
He was panting softly, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to take a deep breath, “Do you want to stop again?”
You looked into his eyes, “Not really.”
That was all he needed to hear before leaning back down for a kiss, this time sliding his hands down to your waist, grounding himself to the reality of this all. Your hands went to his soft black hair, brushed it out of his face and kissed him feverishly.
Soobin’s lips parted against yours, a sigh of relief escaped as he tilted his head to the side. You were a bit surprised by his forwardness once again that when his tongue trailed along your lower lip as if asking for permission, all you could was grant it. Your tongues met smoothly, circling around each other, before pulling back to his lips on your bottom one. Was he such a good kisser last time?
The more he seemed to lean forward and close the nonexistent gap between you, the more you leaned back with need, never once pulling your mouth away from his. With an annoyed huff at your attempt to lean back, he found himself tightening his grip on your waist before pulling you onto the counter making you gasp, “Bi—“
The near call of his nickname made him groan into your mouth, he kissed you with frenzy, like soon you would change your mind and everything would stop.
A small laugh escaped your lips at his eagerness, not shying away from wrapping your legs around his waist as he sat you down on the peninsula countertop. You brought a hand down to the cold marble, trying to steady yourself when he kissed along your jaw, then your neck leaving small red marks where he nipped at.
“Y/n,” Soobin’s voice caught you by surprise, his usual tone was deeper and hoarse with need as he pulled away from kissing you. His hands remained on your waist, his thumbs underneath the thin fabric of your shirt, inching it up just slightly, “One chance.”
“That’s all it’s gonna take,” he mumbled with swollen lips as he looked down at your lap, the material of your leggings not threatening and you could feel his hands slide down till they were at the hem of your leggings.
His gaze was darkened and you were admittedly incredibly turned on by this new side of him. It’s not like you expected him to suddenly take the lead so heavily but you can’t say you hated it. It’s different that what you’re used to from him and it makes you think back to the night of your first kiss. Should you have said yes all along? Would you have ever gotten to see this side of him where he felt the need to express just how much he wants to be with you?
Your eyes locked with his as he slowly began to pull down the material of your pants, lifting your hips slightly as he let them slide down. It’s like he was still waiting for you to tell him stop but with the parting of your legs and the way you guided him down to his knees, it was clear to him you wanted this just as bad.
Soobin started with gentle kisses along your thighs, neither you caring that you were doing this in your kitchen, it only seemed to fuel the heat in his stomach that you were alone. You licked your lips with anticipation, eyes dropping with need at the way he pulled your legs over his shoulders swiftly, looking down at your covered heat with a cute sort of curiosity.
He could see through the thin fabric how turned on you had gotten from the kiss. He can make out the shape of your slit and there was a slight dampness where your entrance would be and it made him feel so much bitter about the growing bulge in his jeans. With eager fingers, he pulled the fabric down, unable to help himself from teasing your heat with his nose tip, “Y/n.”
Your name fell from his lips so prettily that you nearly missed the urgency in it until you were looking at him, looking down at your cunt until finally, he leaned in. A sigh in content escaped you as he placed a soft kiss along your folds, teasing you by avoiding your hardened clit. His hands which held your legs apart were so far up your thighs you could feel the shadow of them against your core and it felt good to be grabbed by him. You never noticed just how big his hands were, or how good he could possibly be with his mouth.
After the light teasing he did with your folds, he licked softly against your clit before pulling it into his mouth, sucking gently making you moan for the first time. Soobin’s eyes immediately went to your face as he swirled his tongue around your clit, lathering it in his drool as he watched your face contort in pleasure making him throb in his jeans uncomfortably.
With one hand on the counter for support, your other hand went to his hair, pulling him closer between your legs and you could feel one of his hands unravel from your thigh and come up to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his middle finger dip into your folds, collecting whatever slick your pussy let out when he sucked on your clit and ever so gently, he pushed a finger in.
“You’re so pretty,” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as he let his finger do some of the work. He rested his cheek against the softness of your thigh while beginning to thrust his middle finger into your wet pussy, “So fucking pretty, Y/n.”
With a deep groan, he went back to your clit, letting his middle finger hook into your g-spot while he mouthed at your clit, costing it in spit while fucking you with his finger. Your hand in his hair never let up, you used it for support, unable to keep your moans down, “Binnie.”
He felt the way you fluttered around him and it only made him put in more effort to bring you to your edge—and not just on the counter. He was nearly on his knees and his legs were beginning to cramp, his cock was getting heavy in its confinement but he didn’t let up. Instead, he let his mouth glide over your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses in its wake.
“Oh god,” you whined softly as you felt a second finger push into your heat and a few seconds of this had your thighs threatening to shut, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, “Your mouth feels so good.”
“Cum for me then, baby,” the words slipped from his lips without thought but for some reason those were the exact words you needed to hear. He felt your release on his tongue a short moment after he spoke and your folds throbbed with please around him.
“That’s it,” he groaned, watching your juice drop around his fingers, gently pulling them away and letting you relax post orgasm.
You looked at him with a new sense of attraction, why was he so confident in bed? Soobin’s cheeks flushed red as he looked down at the mess you made on the counter but his dick loved the sight of your release dripping down on the counter. It was an easy clean up and it was hot, so fucking hot.
Without much thought put into it, Soobin raised his soaked fingers to his lips, humming softly at the taste of your essence. A bunny-like grin spread across his face as he couldn’t help but laugh, “You know we’re not done, right?”
Despite the last couple moments where he’s initiated intimacy, he didn’t wait for permission. He was letting you know he wasn’t done with you yet and that made it all the better when he pulled you into his arms, not caring that you were half naked and taking you toward his bedroom.
He set you down on his bed gently, looking down at you as he yanked off his shirt exposing a lean body of muscle you hadn’t expected.
Soobin isn’t the type to show off his body, he liked more loose fitting clothes and whenever he’s complimented on his physique he always gets shy. Whenever he leaves his room or he knows you’re home he makes sure to be fully dressed and he’s kept himself a secret from you out of nervousness that you might get uncomfortable. Now that your eyes are on his toned stomach, all he could think about is how he wished you’d seen him sooner—if he knew you would look at him like this.
Seeing him undress before you, taking his jeans off next followed by his briefs left you with your lip pulled between your teeth. You now knew why he looked so sweaty early in the mornings, he went to the gym at dawn while you slept in.
You sat up and pulled your shirt off, careful to undo your bra as you felt the bed dip down with his weight and he crawled toward you, helping you throw your things down before pushing you to lay down.
“Condom?” You ask, making him look at you with a sense of curiosity. He knew what you were asking and he of course would oblige but as he looked down at your naked bodies and the way his hard cock pressed against your head, he couldn’t help but let his mind go astray. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
You let Soobin get up as he leaned over his nightstand, praying to the universe that he had a condom somewhere about. It’s obvious he hasn’t had sex in a good long while but he’s just hoping the universe is on his side and he can find one.
After a moment of searching, his heart raced, moved back between your legs and kissed you hungrily. You took the condom from his hands, ripped the wrapper off and searched down his toned abdomen till you found his stiff member. Although you haven’t gotten a good look at it, it had a weight to it and good girth that you couldn’t help but write with need.
Soobin didn’t hesitate to himself up with your entrance when you got the condom on and as gentler as ever, he pushed in. A low growl left his lips as your walls hugged him tightly and he couldn’t help but let his strength falter, nearly crushing you with his weight at the pleasure.
"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against yours as he pulled out slowly, taking a moan to let you feel his big mushroom tip against your ring of nerves. Once he needed more, he pushed back in with a bit more force.
“Soobin,” you moaned, letting your head fall back into to the pillows as his hips began a steady pace of thrusting into you, "Oh… fuck."
He brushed his lips against yours, fucking you with his big cock, basking in the feel of your pussy around him, “So wet, bub.”
His voice had softened even if his thrusts grew rougher, “You feel so good around me.”
Soobin couldn’t help but be close and he was awfully pathetic for it. In his defense, he had just made out with a girl he was crushing on for the past hour. Add on how he ate your pussy in the kitchen [of all places] he felt it was only human of him to be so close to cumming despite barely fucking you.
With a deep grunt, he snuck his hand under your arched back pulling you off the bed and a quiet squeal left your lips. You moved your legs to hug his waist and cling to him when he sat you down on his thighs, cock still deep in your pussy. Soobin’s hands founded their way to the softness of your ass, pinching softly at the way you basically cock warmed him and it took him a moment to raise you up, and pull you back to take him all.
“Please Y/n,” he groaned, grinding your pussy on his dick, “Just say you want to be with me already, fuck. I just want to hear you say it.”
Pure bliss was evident on his face and your usual cute Soobin was replaced by a feral, dark and lustful Soobin you weren’t used to. His hair was sweaty and voice so deep that you couldn’t help but succumb to his advances.
He hugged your body to his and you began to bounce on his lap, kissing his neck and letting your hands trace down his chest feeling his nipples harden, “I want to be with you, Binnie.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna cum.”
His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming first but he couldn’t. A shiver ran down his body as he felt the knot in his stomach come undone, his cock shooting thick spurts of cum into the condom, trembling underneath you.
“Fuck,” his voice was dry, urging you to keep riding his cock, “Keep going.”
“Bin—“ you moaned, hearing the desperation in his voice and did as you were told. It didn’t take long for you to let go, cumming in his arms as he whispered how good you felt around him.
As gentle as ever, he set you back on the bed, collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess that had you groaning.
“Sticky,” you mumbled, “I feel sticky.”
Soobin looked down at you and the mess the two of you made of each other, blinking with confusion on how things had escalated so quickly. Did he do that?
“Sorry,” he pouted, “Do you want to get cleaned up?”
“I think so,” you giggled softly as he reluctantly let you sit up, “How about I meet you back here in a minute?”
Soobin couldn’t think of anything to say and with a silent nod, he let you gather your things and leave.
You weren’t trying to ditch him but you needed to freshen up at least a little bit.
He thought about waiting for you in his bed after he cleaned up after himself but after a while he began to overthink it. Would you actually come back? He understands you’re just a wall away but the distance seemed so far now that he couldn’t help but get up and dressed, following you out his bedroom.
In the process of heading to your room, he stopped in the kitchen to clean up the mess as best as he could for the moment. A soft hum left his lips as he did so and when his eyes landed on a thin piece of lace fabric, he blinked curiously.
With a someone innocent look in his eyes, Soobin picked up your underwear, biting down on his bottom lip to stop a mischievous smile from growing before he shoved them in the pocket of his sweats, unsure what he would do with them later on. A giddy smile plastered his face, dimples on display as he walked toward your room, hearing the water run and he laid in your bed.
“Now, I thought I said I would be back in a minute,” you laughed softly when you came out your bathroom and Soobin just cutely snuggled himself deeper between your sheets and pillows.
“It was too long,” Soobin said as he lifted your bed covers, “Come lay down.”
“I gotta clean out th—“
“I already did,” Soobin whined when you tried walking past him on the bed and with a gentle pull on your wrist, he was leading you onto the bed.
“Did you?” You asked, letting him pull you down until you were laying down next to him, feeling him snuggle into you with his face against your breasts.
“Mhm,” he hummed, his interest caught on the softness of your chest—a place he had neglected when he knew damn well he shouldn’t have.
“Binnie,” you warned when you felt nuzzle into your breasts, squirming against your side, “It’s late already.”
“I know, but your bed… it’s so soft,” he clearly didn’t mean the bed and he thought he was just being a sly bunny, “And you said you would be with me now. Don’t kick me out.”
You could already feel his print press against your thigh, a clear sign that he was getting turned on all over and it was obvious he skipped over wearing anything under his sweats.
A gasp left his lips when he felt your hand palm his erection lightly and unexpectedly, saying to him, “Well, I guess my bed hasn’t been broke into yet.”
Soobin’s hand clutched yours tightly, following you so close that he almost stepped on the back of your shoes everytime you walked. The bar was packed with people and it made his anxiety spike up a bit and feeling your hand in his made him feel slightly better.
“Now don’t get too drunk tonight,” Taehyun said with a laugh as he trailed after you two. Soobin just glared at him, letting you take the lead to order the drinks, eyeing the bartender who was a little too nice to you.
“I don’t plan on drinking too much if he’s the bartender all night,” Soobin mumbled under his breath, hearing the way the bartender talked to you compared to the others. You didn’t pay him any mind but Soobin was watching him too closely that it made Taehyun laugh.
“Relax buddy, you already got Y/n and I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” Taehyun said looking around the bar, waving down Yeonjun who had been search for them all night. Even if your attention was on the bartender, you still held Soobin’s hand, beating him to it when he offered to pay.
“You paid the last two times we went out,” you told him, handing everyone their drink but Soobin was whining.
“But I like paying for you, Taehyun and Yeonjun have their own money,” Soobin said, turning to his friends with a scowl, “Don’t spoil them, only me if you do things like this.”
You laughed, feeling his arm circle around your waist, “It’s okay, come on, my friends are around here somewhere.”
“Hurry up before I puke,” Yeonjun groaned, reminding Soobin that he wasn’t alone with you at home and it made him shy, hiding behind you as you lead the way.
“Wow, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so rizz!” A loud voice yelled out from your side before you were being pummeled back a few steps with large arms around you, jumping excitedly.
“Whoa, rizz!” Beomgyu shouted equally as annoying, making you groan. Soobin smiled nervously as he looked back to his friends who looked just as confused as him. He felt awkward seeing you being hugged by two guys but he tried to ignore it knowing they were just your friends.
“Binnie this is Kai and that’s Beomgyu,” you told him before looking at your friends, “Guys this is Soobin, my boyfriend.”
His dimples showed through and he couldn’t help but smile widely as you addressed him. When you joined his side against he was quick to reach for you, more happy now that you’ve called him that.
“Hello,” Beomgyu stood straight and brought a hand to his forehead as if in salute, “This is our first formal meeting.”
Kai nodded as he took your drink in his own hands, “Yeah, we would have said hi to you when we went to the cafe but Y/n wouldn’t let us because she didn’t want you to know she had a big fat mega obtuse crush on you.”
“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes at him, “It wasn’t like I was obsessed. I was just, yknow, curious.”
Taehyun put a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, “You see? Y/n liked you then too.”
You spent the night either sitting on Soobin’s lap or dancing with him when he asked you to, and when you went home, he jumped in your bed like he’s been doing since the first night.
… THE END, okay I’m out of text boxes but basically sorry it took my so long to finally drop a Soobin fic but hopefully the length of this makes up for it 😭after drafting a story, hating it, drafting a new story, hating it and repeating the cycle for months, I finally got one finish. please interact and lmk what you thinks… it’s kinda a mess but I tried 🤒
#choi soobin#soobin smut#soobin#soobin x y/n#soobin oneshot#soobin fic#soobin imagines#txt soobin#soobin fluff#soobin fanfic#soobin angst#soobin boyfriend material#tomorrow x together#txt smut#choi yeonjun#choi beomgyu#hueningkai#kang taehyun
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